


Becoming Inseparable

by Kitacular



Series: More than Brothers [4]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt Porthos, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitacular/pseuds/Kitacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how they became Inseparable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

August 1628

Poitiers

  
  


Athos withdrew his sword from the belly of the huguenot before him, feeling a savage surge of satisfaction. His gaze swept the battlefield and saw the last few enemy fighters fleeing the scene, Musketeers in pursuit. He heard Aramis throw his sword to the ground. Turning round Athos saw him drop to his knees at Porthos' side. He had been standing astride Porthos since their brother had fallen to the floor a few minutes ago. Porthos was laying still on the ground, wheezing. Blood was pouring from his waist.

Athos swallowed thickly, having not realised how bad the wound was. He whistled for some of the other soldiers on the field and together they lifted Porthos. Athos gritted his teeth as Porthos howled.

Aramis' heart broke at the sound but he made himself sprint ahead to their camp site and cleared the table in the command tent of all paraphernalia. He gathered his supplies and sent one of the boys to collect boiled water. He was just beginning to pace when he heard Porthos bellowing. Aramis stopped the group and undid Porthos' doublet before stepping back to give them room to lay him face down on the table. Every man but Athos quickly exited the tent.

Athos dropped Aramis' forgotten sword on his coat. Aramis didn't even notice. Athos watched silently as Aramis spoke into Porthos' ear, too quietly for Athos to make out a word. He watched mesmerised as Porthos grew quiet and nodded.

Aramis quickly tugged Porthos' jacket off and discarded it. He glanced around and Athos silently handed him his dagger. Aramis quickly cut Porthos' shirt off and began to clean the wound. Athos took a deep breath, realising the wound was much worse than he'd thought. He looked away for a moment and realised there was blood covering his sleeve. Athos felt a jolt of fear as he realised that was his friend's blood.

Porthos howled in pain as Aramis touched the wound. Athos watched with fascination as Aramis returned to whisper in Porthos' ear and whatever Aramis asked, Porthos shook his head this time.

Aramis stood up and rested his hand on Porthos' dark curls. He looked around the tent wildly.

“What do you need?” asked Athos quietly, speaking for the first time since Porthos had been injured. Aramis ruffled Porthos' hair slightly and walked to stand with Athos.

“I need him unconscious. Being on his waist, every time he moves the wound is opened more and more. He won't be able to hold still while I stitch,” Aramis said quietly, looking around.

“I can get brandy,” Athos said softly. Aramis took a deep breath.

“Can you knock him out?” asked Aramis in a whisper. Athos blinked in surprise but otherwise didn't react. He simply nodded.

Athos tapped Porthos on the shoulder and he lifted his head. Athos paused as Aramis started suddenly. Aramis stilled himself and nodded at Athos. Porthos turned his head towards Athos and met his fist.

Aramis crouched by his head and checked Porthos' eyes. Athos watched curiously as Aramis pressed his forehead against Porthos' unconscious one and mouthed something silently.

Aramis went to work. His nimble fingers making quick work of cleaning Porthos' wound.

“Do you love him?” asked Athos suddenly.

Aramis didn't even pause.

“Yes,” he said simply, not even looking up.

Athos admired his honesty and fell silent again. Aramis worked quickly, stitching Porthos' skin back together while he still slept. Athos moved around silently, cleaning up after Aramis. He was slightly taken aback by just how much blood Porthos had lost.

When he had finished bandaging the wound, Aramis pulled a chair up and sat close to Porthos' head. Athos stepped out for a moment and when he returned with wine, it was to see Aramis talking quietly into the still unconscious Porthos' ear.

Aramis looked up as Athos sat on a chair next to him.

“I'm surprised you asked,” said Aramis softly. “It's unusual people choose to become aware of it.”

“Others know?” Athos asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Our landlord, Serge and the Captain,” Aramis said without embarrassment. He flicked his eyes toward the entrance to the tent and kissed Porthos' temple lightly before sitting back in his chair. Athos handed him a bottle of wine.

“Why take the risk?” Athos asked in his calm, low voice.

“We didn't have a choice. We're in each other's blood. We did try to keep apart. We really did,” Aramis said quietly. He leaned forward and felt Porthos' head. “We managed for years pretending it didn't exist but it boiled over. You can't choose who you love, Athos,” Aramis said quietly.

Athos snorted. Aramis didn't notice. His face had broken into a wide smile and he leaned forward again. This time Athos was close enough to hear his words.

“Hello, my love. You had me scared there. No, no, don't move. I've got you,” he murmured softly.

Athos watched as Porthos' eyes flickered open and found Aramis'. He watched in awe as their eyes flickered constantly in silent conversation. Athos couldn't bear the love in their eyes for another second and he left the tent.

  
  


The next day as the Musketeers were packing up their camp site, Aramis managed to arrange some space on a wagon for Porthos. He was still very weak from blood loss and it was agreed he and Aramis would return to Paris instead of joining the campaign at La Rochelle since the Cardinal was certain they city would be done in soon. Towing a cart, slow enough not to jostle Porthos, it was going to be roughly a ten day journey back to Paris. Even with three horses. Aramis was surprised when Athos volunteered to drive them back to Paris so Aramis could tend to Porthos on the journey.

After only two days of fraught silence and tense camping, Aramis demanded they stop in a town where he could rest Porthos on a soft bed for the night. The hadn't dared taking Porthos out of the wagon yet as he kept bleeding every time he turned over, let alone if they tried to move him. Porthos was sweating and Aramis was concerned he was growingly increasingly confused. Aramis and Athos half carried Porthos to a room on the ground floor. It was only late afternoon but he was too weak and disoriented to walk without assistance.

Laying him down on the bed, Aramis checked the wound and was pleased it had finally stopped bleeding when he was moved. He began pacing the floor, twisting his hat in his hands in agitation.

“Aramis?” Athos asked softly, sitting by the fire.

“I will not lose him, Athos,” Aramis said firmly.

Athos simply nodded.

“You don't get it. I will not fucking lose him. I will feed him every drop of my fucking blood if I have to,” Aramis hissed.

“You're losing your temper again,” observed Athos quietly. “You lost your temper when he was hurt, too.”

“Fuck you, Athos!” Aramis shouted suddenly, throwing his hat at him.

Athos raised an eyebrow but made no other movement.

“You bastard!” he shouted. He pointed at Porthos who was muttering to himself on the bed. “Do you realise he is fucking everything to me? I have no earthly or Godly idea how to live without him. I love him with everything I am. Are you so dead inside that you cannot understand why I might be distressed at losing him?”

“I understand,” Athos said calmly. “I also understand that emotions are dangerous. If you let your emotions influence your actions, you put yourself at risk.”

“Emotions? I do not feel mere emotion for him you bastard. He is my world,” Aramis hissed.

“I saw you lose your temper on the field. That's dangerous, Aramis,” Athos reiterated.

Aramis groaned and slumped into a chair, all the fight draining out of him.

“It's not because I love him that I got angry on the field. Do you think either of us would have reacted differently, had it been you? It's why I'm so upset now but it's not why I was upset out there.”

Athos raised an eyebrow.

“We're brothers, Athos. Have you not felt that over the last two years we've been together? I find it surprising that you did not feel a sense of fury or fear at seeing Porthos bleeding on the grass.”

“I did,” Athos replied in a whisper.

“Then why are you surprised I got so upset? Would you not have done the same for him had I not been there?” Aramis asked, the fatigue in his voice evident.

“I would,” said Athos, frowning.

They fell silent.

It was one of the things Athos had found so appealing about the pair when he'd been grouped with them two years earlier. They didn't feel the need to fill silences.

“Is he that bad?” asked Athos. Aramis ran his hands over his face.

“Yes,” he replied thickly. “He's lost so much blood. Since he's continued to bleed since... If he...” Aramis trailed off.

“Will he live?” asked Athos, fear creeping into his heart.

“If he makes it through tonight, yes,” whispered Aramis.

Athos clutched his heart, not having realised how much danger Porthos was in. Aramis didn't notice the gesture. He'd stood up to walk over to Porthos, checking the wound again. It had still not started bleeding.

“He's not losing any more blood. He'll be fine... If he survives the night,” Aramis confirmed, his voice cracking.

Athos stood beside him and laid his hand on Aramis' shoulder.

“Rest, friend. You have barely shut your eyes for two days,” he said quietly. “I'll watch over him.”

Aramis shook his head but swayed where he stood, the warm pressure of Athos' hand making it harder to pretend he was OK. Aramis swallowed hard and stared tensely at Porthos' face. It was covered in sweat but whatever delirium he'd been experiencing earlier had seemingly faded. A wave of exhaustion hit Aramis like a ton of bricks and he swayed again.

Aramis jumped to feel Athos gently easing his thick shoulder strap off. He tried to help but his hands were shaking too badly. Athos gently moved Aramis' hands away and silently helped him remove his accoutrements, finally easing his coat off his shoulders. He guided Aramis to the bed. He silently crouched and helped Aramis remove his boots. Athos encouraged him to lie down beside Porthos.

Aramis followed the pressure of Athos' hands and lay on his back beside the curled unconscious form of his lover. He reached out and stroked Porthos' face, feeling a stab of pain to his heart that Porthos didn't lean into it. They always felt each other. Always. His eyes welled up and he turned onto his side to face him.

Athos stood and watched them for a moment. Aramis was murmuring to Porthos' unconscious form again. He was looking at Porthos with such concern and tenderness it made Athos' heart ache and he turned away.

 


	2. Clearing the air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos learns more about Aramis and Porthos' relationship

Athos woke with a start in the chair by the fire, needing a few seconds to realise where he was. The room was now fully dark and the fire had begun to die. He looked round to see Aramis and Porthos still on the bed facing each other. Something was different, though. Athos stood and walked to Aramis' side to check on them. They'd just moved slightly.

Aramis had finally fallen asleep, his head burrowed under Porthos' chin. Athos noticed with a surge of relief that Porthos' hand was laying across Aramis' waist and his breathing had slowed a little. It was still much faster than it should be but it was at least steady. Athos exhaled heavily.

Porthos flickered his eyes open to see Athos stood above them. He glanced between Athos' unreadable expression and Aramis curled up in his arms. Porthos wasn't sure what to do.

“I already know, Porthos. It's fine. Let him sleep. You should rest too,” Athos said quietly. Porthos' eyes drifted close. Athos watched as Porthos dipped his head and pressed his nose into Aramis' hair. Something deep in his chest throbbed at the gesture.

He returned to his seat by the fire and brooded for a while.

Athos swore he would never love again. He saw what it did to Aramis. He might think it's a good thing but it just looked like pain to Athos. The agony in Aramis' eyes when he talked about Porthos dying... That's not worth it, surely? But the joy in his eyes when Porthos had regained consciousness after the stitching? Only love provided that.

It suddenly hit him that love did exist. Ever since she... He had assumed love wasn't real. It was just a lie. It obviously wasn't, though. These two had clearly been together for years and nobody could ever doubt how much they loved each other. Athos realised now they must have always been together. Their house was so welcoming. Porthos' bed. Athos kicked himself mentally. Porthos' bed, the bed he so often woke up in after a night's drinking. It never smelt of Porthos.

So why did they get to love someone so easily? Athos had been so hurt and had then... He'd... Athos couldn't bear to think of it. Athos had loved her. It had come so easily. But Porthos and Aramis? It looked as easy as breathing and neither of them would ever betray each other. So why didn't he get that? He'd loved her... So much... But she'd betrayed him. Why did they get a partner they could trust and Athos didn't?

But Aramis was right, he loved them too. As brothers. He'd had a block of ice in his chest since the day he found Thomas dead. They'd melted him some. They were both bold, friendly, warm people. They'd gradually worked their way into his heart.

Athos dropped his head into his hands.

“Athos?”

Athos lifted his head and turned round to see Aramis lying on his back, propped up on his elbows watching him. He stood and returned to the foot of the bed. Porthos was awake and trying to watch him as well but clearly not strong enough to look up. Athos obligingly moved into Porthos' natural eye line and stood beside Aramis.

“We apologise, my friend,” said Aramis softly. “We should not have laid this burden of knowledge upon you. Can you forgive us?”

“Burden?” asked Athos.

“Us,” croaked Porthos.

It was the first time Athos had heard him speak since he was injured. He found it frightening how weak he sounded. Aramis clearly thought the same and held his hand up to Porthos. Aramis pulled himself up until he was sat against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. When Porthos made to move, Aramis held his hand out again and Porthos remained still.

“We aren't fools, Athos. You are the most honourable person we know and we've forced knowledge on you that puts you in an awful position,” Aramis said quietly. “We have no right to ask this but we beg you not to say anything. We will endeavour not to force you to witness anything more than the love between brothers again.”

Athos nodded thoughtfully but his eyes were drawn to Porthos' hand resting on Aramis' knee. There was nothing lascivious in the gesture. They were both fully dressed and physical touches between the three were not uncommon. He found, however, he could see so much more in it now. He saw the affection in it. He knew what Porthos was doing. Porthos was still feeling weak and injured and was tying himself to Aramis. Aramis was his port in a storm. He couldn't ask them to put all that back in a box. Not when he could feel it doing him so much good to see love in action.

“There's no need,” he said finally.

“I see more thoughts crossing your face than that, my friend. Can you talk to us about it?” asked Aramis gently.

“I should leave you in peace,” Athos said, stepping back. Porthos patted Aramis' leg and he drew them up to sit cross-legged. Aramis gestured at the space he left.

“Join us? I think it would do us good to talk about this together and I'm not willing to move Porthos yet,” Aramis said firmly.

Athos nodded stiffly and removed his boots before sitting bolt upright on the bed beside Porthos' legs and facing Aramis.

“Gentlemen, I understand your concerns but rest assured I will not reveal your relationship to anyone. I also don't ask that you resume hiding yourselves. I understand how important love is... to some people,” Athos said formally.

“May we ask you some questions?” said Aramis gently.

Athos nodded warily.

“Have you been hurt in the past?” Aramis asked quietly. Porthos watched Athos' face tighten.

“There was someone special once,” Athos said stiffly. There was a long pause. “She died,” he added flatly.

“What happened?” asked Aramis but Porthos lifted his hand and stretched up to rest it back on Aramis' knee. Aramis blinked and looked down at him. Athos watched the silent exchange and was grateful when Aramis held his hands up.

“I apologise, my friend. I hope one day you choose to tell us but we won't pry,” Aramis said. He dropped his hands back to his lap and took Porthos' hand in his own.

“What about us?” croaked Porthos. Aramis squeezed his hand.

“I don't understand the question,” Athos said slowly.

“He's surprised you don't mind knowing about us,” Aramis translated.

“How do you do that?” Athos asked. “You have silent conversations,” he explained seeing the confusion on their faces.

“We do?” asked Aramis in surprise. He glanced back down at Porthos and Athos watched them smile at each other. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked slightly at them. Aramis laughed.

“We've spent so much time together. I think we probably do it with you at times. Perhaps only on duty,” Aramis said, inclining his head.

Athos smiled and thought he was probably right. It was very rare he needed to explain what he wanted them to do, they just tended to move together as a team flawlessly.

“You just do as I say,” he said softly, relaxing slightly.

He raised an eyebrow as the pair of them exchanged another look so tender that Athos felt he was intruding. He made to stand up and Aramis caught him by the wrist.

“So, if you don't mind us asking, why is that you say we don't need to hide our relationship? The Captain and our landlord both know but have chosen to feign ignorance. You say you don't want to choose that option?” Aramis asked carefully.

“You warm me,” said Athos simply.

Aramis frowned in confusion but Athos was finding it difficult to admit he needed other people.

Aramis looked down suddenly and Athos followed his glance to see Porthos looking up at him. He seemed to be pleading with him. Aramis nodded and Porthos switched his glance to Athos.

“I see Aramis as my sun. He's like the sunshine warming me when it's cold and dark,” Porthos croaked, his voice growing weaker.

“Shh. That's enough. No more talking,” said Aramis softly, squeezing his hand again. Porthos nodded.

“That's precisely it. When I first met you and embarked on your rather determined campaign to befriend me it was like coming in from the cold,” Athos said in his low calming voice. He paused to gather his thoughts and Athos remembered why he liked the pair and their comfortable silences.

“I am not capable of love any more but watching the two of you makes me feel... warmed by association. As if I were standing at the edge of a camp site and sharing in the warmth from someone else's fire.”

Athos jumped slightly as he felt Porthos' hand on his knee. He looked down at it and saw Aramis rest his hand on the other knee. He rested his hands on top of theirs and squeezed them gratefully.

They sat quietly on the bed for a long time, simply enjoying the comfortable silence and the reassurance of one another. Athos and Aramis shared an amused look as Porthos had clearly fallen back to sleep without moving his hand from Athos' knee. He'd leaned his head forward so his face was pressed against Aramis' thigh.

“How is he?” Athos asked.

“He'll be fine,” said Aramis tenderly. “He's not losing blood any more so it will just take time for him to gather his strength.”

“How long do you think?”

“Hmm,” responded Aramis. “I think it's going to be at least another three days before he can walk unaided. It's so low on his waist that when his hips move, it runs the risk of splitting the wound. It didn't reopen when we carried him in here, which is encouraging. I would estimate at least two weeks before he's running around again. By that time, however, the wound should be healed enough he can start training so they should run together quite well. It's just going to be difficult to stop him from insisting he's fine. ”

Athos nodded. He opened his mouth to say something and closed it again thoughtfully. After another minute he tried again.

“You seem to be able to insist on things with Porthos quite easily,” he said carefully.

Aramis' eyes narrowed warily.

“You're the senior officer, Athos,” Aramis said cautiously, his expression uncharacteristically guarded.

“It pains me to see you closed off like that, Aramis,” he said softly. “I thought I'd made it clear I will not judge you.”

“I... He answers to me,” Aramis said apprehensively .

“He's yours?” Athos asked, softly.

“Yes,” Aramis said, stiffly. “Not like... It's...”

“I understand,” interjected Athos quietly. “I don't wish to make you uncomfortable but we have shared our lives for three years now. I simply wish to understand.”

Aramis nodded, relaxing again. He stroked Porthos' hair in silence, gazing at him.

“I was frightened,” Athos said suddenly. Aramis looked up at him. “When I saw so much blood on the grass,” he explained. Aramis just nodded and turned his eyes back to the sleeping man.

“When we got him here and you told me he might not live through the night, my heart ached,” Athos admitted quietly.

“You love him,” said Aramis, repeating his words from Poitiers. He flicked his eyes back up to Athos to see the shock on his face. “You love me too. Not in the same way we do but Porthos and I have succeeded in making sure you found brotherhood and love with us.”

Athos nodded and Aramis saw the fatigue in his face.

“Come, Athos. We have several hours left before morning. Sleep,” he said kindly.

Athos stood and walked back to the hearth. Aramis beckoned him back to the bed where he was gently waking Porthos.

“We're going to move you over, darling boy, so Athos has room to sleep, too,” he murmured quietly.

“Oh there's no need,” Athos protested, rushing over to stop Aramis.

“There is,” said Aramis firmly. “Even before we realised we shared more than brotherly love we found comfort in each other's closeness. I know you feel some of that as well.”

Athos nodded reluctantly, struggling to admit that he needed others. Porthos was trying to get up and Athos rushed to the side of the bed. He slid two arms under Porthos' legs and Aramis walked round and mirrored him, one under his waist and one under his arm. Together they pulled Porthos towards them, settling him closer to the edge of the bed.

Porthos grunted loudly, surprised at the sharp pain in his side. He'd gotten used to the dull throbbing across his side but this was like being stabbed again. He panted harshly, waiting for it to pass. He felt Aramis' hand on the back of his neck squeezing gently and he welcomed the reassurance. He slowly drew strength from Aramis' firm grip and gradually felt the pain recede.

Porthos opened his eyes, feeling the bed dip beside him and smiled to see Athos had shed his doublet and was nervously climbing into bed next to him. He smiled warmly, please to see Athos accepting comfort from them. Athos returned his smile shyly.

“You're going to have get much closer than that if I'm going to get any sleep,” Aramis said, nudging Athos. Athos chuckled and shuffled closer, trying not to jostle Porthos too much.

Athos settled on his back, feeling warmth radiating from the large bulk of Porthos beside him. He turned his head and watched Aramis stretching his long limbs out to his other side. Athos felt himself getting nervous at the closeness of the two men. It had been a very very long time since he'd allowed himself to be physically vulnerable like this.

Athos looked between the two men either side of him and they were having one of their silent conversations. He smiled to himself as he realised he was starting to recognise them.

“I can tell you asked if he's OK,” he said to Aramis. “I can't yet tell what your answer was,” he said looking back at Porthos, who was still breathing quite heavily. Aramis smiled.

“He's in a lot of pain but it's getting better,” Aramis translated. Porthos nodded and reached his hand out for Aramis'. Aramis took it and squeezed gently. They rested their clasped hands on Athos' stomach and Athos covered them with his own.

Athos felt Aramis' head drop forwards onto his shoulder quite soon, the emotional exhaustion taking him quickly. It wasn't long before he felt sleep taking him, too. He struggled to keep his eyes open, still unsure of the unfamiliar comfort. Porthos stroked his thumb across his stomach. Athos turned to look at him and met Porthos' warm, brown eyes and felt sleep take him too.

 


	3. Making it clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos learns more about Aramis and Porthos

Aramis woke first, his face buried into someone's shoulder. He frowned to himself, recognising the smell as someone other than Porthos. He lifted his head and saw none of them had moved. His eyes slid to Porthos first and saw a frown creasing his features. He wasn't worried, though. His waist was still going to be very painful but the sheen of sweat he'd been seeing in the wagon for the past two days had gone.

Aramis slid his eyes to Athos and was remarkably pleased to see his face smoothed out, all the normal frowning lines were gone. He looked years younger and so very peaceful. He heard a slight change in Porthos' breathing and waited patiently.

Porthos opened his eyes with a struggle and found Aramis' eyes on his already. He smiled at him.

“Sire,” he said groggily.

“How are you feeling? Still in a lot of pain?” Aramis said quietly. Porthos nodded. “Is talking still exhausting you?” Aramis whispered.

Porthos frowned and thought for a minute.

“Is it restful having Aramis talk for you?”

Both men looked down in surprise, not having realised Athos was awake. Athos continued to look at Porthos. Porthos looked at Aramis for help.

“Porthos? Are you finding it's easier to deal with the pain if you can lean on me and not engage as much?” Aramis asked quietly, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb.

Porthos nodded gratefully. Aramis smiled.

“How did you know?” Aramis asked, switching his attention to Athos. Athos shrugged slightly, his face closing down. Porthos moved his and Aramis' clasped hands slightly on Athos stomach.

Athos blinked in surprise and watched the hands move.

“I am aware of couples who exchange power,” he answered softly.

“That's why you recognised us,” said Aramis, suddenly understanding. Porthos squeezed his hand. “Athos realised last night that you're mine,” he explained.

Colour rushed to Porthos' cheeks and both of the others felt him tense.

Athos rested both of his hands back on top of the other's clasped ones and squeezed Porthos' gently.

“I don't know, nor am I asking, the details of your private lives. I simply accept that you belong to Aramis and he has a measure of authority over you,” Athos said calmly. He wasn't surprised to see Porthos look over him at Aramis before settling again.

Porthos squeezed all their combined hands and looked meaningfully at Aramis. Athos frowned and couldn't understand the expression in the darker man's face.

“Ah,” said Aramis softly. Athos raised an eyebrow. “You... you understand our relationship is not just a romantic one? We are...”

“You have a physical relationship?” Athos asked, understanding their nerves. “Yes. I understand that. I understood that when I gave you my acceptance, as well,” he said softly.

Athos chuckled to himself suddenly and felt questioning looks from either side.

“You both just breathed a sigh of relief at the same time. Were I a simpleton, your breath would have met between my ears!” he said chuckling still.

The three of them laughed together, feeling a lot of tension leaving them all after the slightly uncomfortable discussions. Aramis raised their clasped hands and kissed Porthos', catching Athos' in the gesture. Athos sat up and shuffled to the end of the bed. He stood and walked to the chair, turning his back to pull his boots on.

Aramis leaned forward and cradled Porthos' face gently. He kissed him gently, quickly growing more intense as he tried to put all his unexpressed fears in the kiss.

Athos understood this was the first time they'd kissed since before Porthos had come so close to dying and he wanted to give them some privacy so he silently slipped from the room in search of some breakfast for the three of them.

When he returned, his two friends were still in bed, staring into each other's eyes. There were tears in both of their eyes and Athos didn't announce his arrival. He could only imagine what they were going through. He quietly laid out the spread of food he'd obtained, including a bowl of hot porridge he'd managed to acquire from the innkeeper.

He heard Aramis come up behind him.

“I apologise, my friend. We shouldn't have gotten lost in each other like that,” he said quietly, clapping his hand on Athos' shoulder.

“It's OK. I understand how you must have needed to reconnect,” Athos said sincerely.

Aramis reviewed the food and took the porridge back to bed. He sat cross-legged beside Porthos and carefully settled the bowl next to him.

“You need to eat something, lover,” he said quietly. Porthos frowned. “I understand. I know you're not hungry but I haven't managed to get you to eat anything for three days so you're going to try.”

Porthos nodded and tried to sit up but Aramis stopped him. Porthos pouted at him and Aramis chuckled kindly.

“Try,” he said, stroking Porthos' cheek and smiling wider when Porthos leaned into his hand.

Porthos begrudgingly started eating, awkwardly holding the spoon sideways. Aramis sat with him calmly, stroking Porthos' hip.

Athos brought Aramis a plate of meat and cheese with some bread. Aramis smiled gratefully at him. Porthos stopped eating after only a few mouthfuls and looked up at Aramis.

“That's fine. Thank you, my love,” Aramis said softly, taking the bowl from him and handing it to Athos. Aramis stood and walked round to Porthos' side. He checked on Porthos' waist and it was still looking quite bad. He was aware of Athos stood beside him.

“Looks bad,” he said softly. Porthos grunted in pain as Aramis' fingers delicately touched round the edges.

“It looks much better, actually,” said Aramis brightly. He was surprised when Athos tentatively reached out and touched the damaged skin above the wound as well. He instantly drew his hand back when Porthos hissed in pain. Aramis frowned as Athos looked at his fingers as if he'd been burned.

“I think we should get on the road quite soon. I'm going to see to the horses, gentleman,” Athos said quietly and picked up his doublet. He slipped out the door while Aramis frowned.

Aramis helped Porthos to a sitting position.

“You need to make sure you don't twist at all, darling, when you move. I don't want you to trying to walk without help,” Aramis said. “Just sit still there for a few minutes while I get ready to leave. Just get used to sitting up for a while.”

Porthos nodded and frowned slightly.

“Did Athos touch me?” he asked quietly. Aramis paused, putting his coat on.

“Yes,” he answered slowly. Porthos frowned again and Aramis could see him struggling to put his thoughts into words. “He let go very quickly,” he said gently, pulling the rest of his coat on.

Porthos nodded to himself, confirming Aramis was on the right track. He looked at Aramis, a question in his eyes.

“I don't know,” Aramis answered, thoughtfully, continuing to get ready to leave. “Surprised at how deep it is? I think it's the first time he's seen it since I stitched you.”

Porthos shook his head.

“What do you think it was?”

Porthos frowned and shrugged slightly. Aramis dropped to his knees in front of Porthos and kissed him.

“We'll think about it, OK?” he said. Porthos still looked glum. “I think he's dealing with a lot at the moment, Porthos. I think letting us into his life has rattled him a bit. Let's talk about it later when we've all had a chance to think.”

Porthos smiled and leaned forwards to rest his forehead against Aramis and winced.

“I should have said no bending as well as twisting,” Aramis said, gently sitting Porthos back up. Porthos chuckled weakly as Aramis looped his arm around his waist and together they made their way slowly to the door.

As Athos returned to the room, he heard their laughter just inside the door. Aramis' laugh was always so natural and light. Porthos' laugh, normally booming in nature was a weak chuckle but Athos considered it had been too long since it'd been heard.

His stomach suddenly tightened. They were laughing at him. While he was out the room. He'd clearly made a fool of himself. He was such an idiot for letting them see him like that, so needy. Athos ground his teeth together.

Aramis' laugh sounded again and Athos heard he had moved much closer to the door.

“How am I supposed to find him?!” Aramis asked, still laughing. “I can't see through the door!”

Athos sighed and opened the door. He came face to face with the two men, only a foot or so away from the door. Porthos was slumped against Aramis, his arm around his shoulders. Aramis had his arm around Porthos' waist and was clearly supporting most of his weight.

“Athos, my friend! You have returned to save us!” Aramis cried.

Athos looked between the pair and raised an eyebrow.

“Door,” panted Porthos.

Athos looked between the pair and the door.

“We suddenly realised we couldn't open the door without you,” Aramis translated, his laughter still lighting his eyes.

“I thought-” Athos began and cut himself off. He started to step forwards and stopped himself. He scowled as Porthos and Aramis shared an unreadable look.

“We should go,” said Athos stiffly, turning on his heel and leading them from the room.

 


	4. Melting the ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three men spend an evening in the woods and Athos begins to open up

The rest of that day was spent making very good progress. The roads were mercifully very good in this area of France, which was very fortuitous as the whole day was pure torture.

No matter how good the roads were, the wagon still bumped and rolled along, jostling Porthos. Now that he was conscious, he was in agony. His entire side was on fire and every time the wagon moved, he instinctively moved to counter it and it wrenched the wound on his side. By lunchtime he'd stopped being able to hide the pain and when they moved off again he had begun grunting each time they hit a bump.

Athos felt an enormous pang of guilt every time he heard Porthos' hisses and growls of pain. He was being as careful as possible but the cart was naturally bumpy. He found himself gritting his teeth and pushing them on. He made the horse changes as quick as he possibly could. Athos wanted to make as much distance as possible and knew, looking at Aramis, he was going to have to pull rank to push them on.

However hard it was on Porthos and Athos, it was pure torment for Aramis. When they stopped for lunch he'd refused to eat anything because Porthos was panting too heavily. He'd just waved Athos away and stared silently at Porthos' sweating face. He'd looked positively murderous when Athos refused to stop as night fell.

After another three nerve jangling hours in the dark, Athos finally stopped in a clearing quite far back from the road. Porthos was growling constantly and Aramis was hunched at one end, hugging his knees to his chest. His face was pale as a sheet and his knuckles were white.

Athos set about getting a fire going and felt a very angry Aramis coming up behind him.

“See to the horses,” he said before Aramis could speak. He felt Aramis vibrating with tension behind him and didn't turn to look at him. Aramis strode off to settle and feed their three horses and Athos breathed a sigh of relief.

As he was just coaxing the fire into life, Aramis returned.

“I apologise for not helping you with that,” Aramis said uncomfortably, gesturing at the flames. Athos just nodded.

“How is he doing?” he asked quietly. He watched Aramis tense up.

“He's in agony and struggling to keep control. You pushed him too far today,” Aramis said sharply, anger returning to his normally friendly features.

“How is he **now**?” asked Athos pointedly. Aramis sighed in frustration.

“Calming down. He seems to have bled slightly under the dressing but it stopped about an hour ago,”

“Let's give him a few minutes while we get some food cooked. Then we'll get him up,” Athos said softly.

Aramis winced at the thought of moving him and welcomed Athos' warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder. He sighed heavily and crossed his other arm over his chest to lay his hand on top of Athos'. Again, Athos suddenly pulled his hand away as if burned. Aramis watched in confusion as Athos strode determinedly into the trees to collect some water from the stream.

Porthos was feeling exhausted again. He knew they'd stopped and it wouldn't be long until he was able to sleep so he fought to keep himself awake until Aramis came for him. He heard someone approach the wagon.

“Athos?” he rasped, his throat raw.

“You knew it was me?” asked Athos calmly.

“Knew not Aramis,” he croaked, exhaustion taking him and he gave up. It pained Athos to see how much energy it cost him just to form such a weak answer.

Athos jumped when Aramis appeared at his side. He turned to see he was clearly steeling himself for moving Porthos.

“Why don't you sit down and I'll bring him to you? I can only imagine how frustrated he is at being laid down for so long so if you sit down somewhere, he could sit against you,” Athos said softly.

Aramis nodded gratefully and raised his hand to squeeze Athos' shoulder.

“Thank you, my friend,” he murmured. Athos understood. Aramis had suffered a great deal today being inches away from Porthos' pain. Athos was glad to give him a reprieve from being the person who had to move him.

Aramis busied himself with stripping off his belts. He screwed his eyes up and tried to block out the sound of Porthos growling as Athos helped move him. Aramis sat down with his back against a tree and after a lot of gentle manoeuvring, Athos managed to get Porthos settled between Aramis' legs, his back against Aramis' chest.

Athos quietly returned to the wagon to get some food. When he returned, Aramis was whispering into Porthos' ear and Porthos was nodding. Athos didn't want to intrude so sat down quietly on the other side of the fire.

“You intending to share?” Aramis called playfully.

Athos stood and sat back down close to the pair. He handed them both a plate of food but Porthos was too exhausted to take his plate and so Aramis took it, laying it on Porthos' lap while he ate his own meal.

In the short time it took Aramis and Athos to finish, Porthos had dozed off.

“Water?” asked Aramis. Athos passed him the skin. “Thanks.”

Aramis bent his head low to Porthos' ear and murmured quietly.

“Porthos. I need you to wake up and eat something. Just eat a little bit and I'll let you sleep. Come on, that's it my love. Hi, my beautiful boy,” he said. Athos watched his face break into a wide smile as Porthos' eyes flickered open.

“No,” moaned Porthos, turning his head to meet Aramis'. Aramis kissed his forehead tenderly.

“Yes, my love,” he insisted gently.

“Tyrant,” he grumbled.

“Rascal,” Aramis replied, kissing Porthos' ear.

“Dictator,” Porthos said, a smile in his voice.

“Miscreant,” Aramis teased, kissing his ear again.

“Degenerate,” Porthos retorted, chuckling.

“Servant,” said Aramis, kissing just below Porthos' ear. A rumbling noise came from deep in Porthos' chest.

“Cheater,” chuckled Porthos.

“Serf,” Aramis murmured.

“Master,” breathed Porthos.

“Winner,” Aramis answered, laughing lightly and straightening up. “Do you need my help?” he asked softly. Porthos tensed and flicked his eyes to Athos, who had sat watching their exchange intensely, unnoticed until now. He was leaning forward, an avid expression on his face.

“Please don't be ashamed for needing the help, Porthos. I've seen you have such a difficult day. Accept the help,” he said softly. Porthos relaxed back against Aramis again and nodded.

Aramis slowly fed him some of the meats Athos had brought with them while Athos obligingly made small talk about what route he was going to take to try and make the journey as quick as possible. Porthos relaxed further against Aramis, grateful for the slight dignity he gained with them not watching him be fed.

Aramis and Athos moved their conversation onto speculation about the campaign at La Rochelle. Athos revealed that when they left there had been talk of La Rochelle not being far from surrendering. Another fleet was coming in from England but the Cardinal was confident they wouldn't be successful. Tréville had been happy for them all to leave. He was content that no more supply missions would be coming down from Poitiers.

They fell silent, brooding on the morality of starving the city. They were, however, soldiers. They followed their orders. Aramis felt Porthos gently turn his head away and Aramis put their plates to one side. He slowly fed Porthos some water and wrapped one arm around Porthos' waist, using the other to stroke his forehead, thoughtfully.

Aramis felt Porthos lightly tap his thigh and looked down. He followed Porthos' gaze to Athos. Athos was, again, watching the pair greedily. Aramis lightly pressed his finger tips into Porthos' stomach to let him know he had seen it. Aramis was slightly confused and didn't know what to do. He had the distinct impression that Athos was lonely but he wasn't sure what it was he wanted. Aramis was certain he didn't love them but there was a definite hunger in his eyes.

“Athos?” he said hesitantly.

Athos blinked in surprise and immediately stiffened up. He made to rise but Porthos reached out and laid his hand on his knee.

“I apologise, gentlemen. I should leave you in peace,” he said, immediately becoming distant and formal. He looked down at Porthos' hand as he squeezed his leg gently.

“Don't make him get up and chase you,” laughed Aramis. Athos smiled awkwardly and continued to stare at Porthos' hand.

Aramis thought for a moment and took a drink from the water skin, giving himself time.

“Athos?” he asked again. “What is it? Something is bothering you. I can tell. We can tell,” Aramis said softly, correcting himself as Porthos tapped him again.

Athos sighed heavily.

“I'm envious of the comfort you provide each other. The naked affection. It's like breathing for you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Does it... When we're close does it cause you pain?” asked Aramis gently.

“No. I meant it when I said it was like feeling warmth from the edge of the fire,” Athos replied quietly.

Aramis looked down at Porthos who felt him move and looked up. They smiled at each other and both looked back at Athos, who looked decidedly wary.

“Then come closer, Athos. Don't force yourself to stay on the fringe. We promise we won't try and kiss you,” Aramis teased. “We will, however be as close to you as you need until you're warm through to your toes.”

Athos frowned uncertainly.

“You told Porthos not to refuse the help. Why should you?”

Athos swallowed nervously and sat looking very unsure. Porthos squeezed Aramis' leg urgently.

“Darling?” Aramis asked, dipping his head.

“So tired,” he rasped. “May we sleep now please, Sire?” he added quietly, squeezing Aramis again, slightly firmer. Aramis suddenly understood what Porthos was getting at, noting the word 'we'. Aramis looked at Athos surreptitiously and found him looking, not at Porthos, but surprisingly, at Aramis. He was looking unusually vulnerable.

Aramis hesitated.

“Athos,” he said softly. “Would you bring us all some blankets, please?”

Athos nodded and silently got to his feet.

“Are you sure about this, lover?” Aramis whispered into Porthos' ear.

“Think so, Sire,” Porthos croaked.

“What do you suggest?”

Porthos patted his lap in answer and Aramis nodded.

Athos returned and stood awkwardly.

“I don't want to move Porthos, Athos. We'd like it if you would lay down with us. Would you like to rest beside us?” Aramis asked gently.

Athos nodded and gently draped a blanket over Porthos. He also produced a pillow and handed it to Aramis, who settled it gratefully behind his head. Porthos struggled and lifted his arm out of the blanket and beckoned Athos.

Athos blinked in surprise and looked up at Aramis who nodded encouragingly. Athos awkwardly lay down on his back and rested his head stiffly on Porthos' blanket covered thigh. Aramis wrapped his arm around Porthos' waist under the blanket and squeezed gently. Porthos nuzzled back against Aramis and hummed comfortably.

Aramis lifted his other arm out from under the blanket and rested it gently on Athos' chest. Athos blinked in surprise again and hesitantly shifted, moving his head back until Porthos' thigh was supporting his neck. Porthos lifted his arm with great effort and rested it on his lap beside Athos' head.

Porthos fell asleep almost immediately, still exhausted. Athos was still holding himself tensely. Aramis took a risk and gently stroked his chest. Athos froze for a moment before looking up at Aramis.

“Relax, my friend,” Aramis soothed. “Get some sleep. We're both here for you.”

Athos turned onto his side, away from Aramis and Porthos. Aramis felt a pang of guilt and lifted his hand. He was surprised, then, when Athos shuffled back until the back of his head was in light contact with Porthos' hip. Aramis wasn't quite sure what to do with his hand until Athos snaked his hand up out of the blanket and pulled Aramis' hand back under. Aramis let him guide his hand and was pleased when Athos chose to hold it against his heart.

 


	5. Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin to get to the bottom of what's upsetting Athos

The following day's ride was much easier. Porthos was able to sleep a bit while travelling, which made Aramis willing to sit up front with Athos more. They rode mostly in silence but Athos found it reassuring all the same.

He had woken up holding Aramis' hand and with his face pressed into Porthos' thigh. The sense of well-being he'd woken up with was almost unheard of. Even with... her... he'd never felt protected like they made him feel.

“We'll never push you to tell us what happened, Athos, but your choice to be inscrutable does mean we rely on you to tell us what you need from us. Does that make sense?” Aramis asked suddenly, breaking Athos' train of thought.

He looked round at Aramis with a frown.

“You were brooding,” he explained. Athos nodded and gathered his thoughts in silence.

“I sometimes feel ashamed of my need for comfort. It doesn't come easily to me to let myself need others,” he said after a long pause.

“I think there's something more than that, Athos. We've known you for years now and I see something else in your eyes now than I did before. I thought it was discomfort at seeing Porthos and I together but I don't think that's what it is,” Aramis said gently, examining Athos' reactions. He was extremely hard to read.

“We should not discuss this while Porthos is sleeping,” Athos said quietly.

“He's noticed it, too,” said Aramis. “He noticed it before I did. It was his idea for you to sleep in his lap.”

Athos frowned.

“Why don't we stop for lunch and the three of us can talk about it together?” Aramis suggested. Athos nodded silently and after another half an hour, pulled off the road into a field. He pulled up close to the line of trees. Aramis hopped down and went to rouse Porthos.

Athos watched carefully as Porthos struggled to his feet. He leaned on the side of the wagon as Aramis experimentally let go of him. He swayed where he stood but was able to hold himself upright by leaning on the wagon.

Aramis smiled and quickly wrapped his arm back around his waist and eased him gently to the floor, just inside the tree line. He settled down behind him, leaning against a tree again, and cradled him against his chest. Athos sat down cross-legged in front of them both.

“How are you feeling, Porthos?” asked Athos.

“Better,” said Porthos. Aramis cleared his throat pointedly. “Still weak,” he answered, more honestly. “The pain is much better but I'm slightly frustrated that I'm not stronger. I feel myself drifting in and out and just get so exhausted so easily. Even now when you've only just woken me I feel tired again.”

Aramis felt Porthos sag against him, this small speech wearing him out. He stroked Porthos' upper arm and Porthos turned his head. They shared a smile and Aramis kissed him lightly.

“Do you feel up to a discussion with Athos about how he's changed since finding out about us?” Aramis asked into Porthos' ear, watching Athos' expression become more guarded.

“I might not talk much but I'd very much like to clear the air,” Porthos answered honestly.

“I apologise if I've made you uncomfortable,” said Athos.

“You misunderstand, my friend. He means that we're worried about you and we'd like to know what's going on,” Aramis explained. Porthos nodded eagerly.

“Ah,” said Athos but didn't volunteer any more than that. Aramis took a breath, slightly unsure how to proceed with their more guarded friend. Porthos lay his hand on Aramis' thigh and then quickly removed it. Aramis understood.

“You seem hesitant about touching us, suddenly,” Aramis said carefully.

He'd intended to start slowly but it seemed they'd hit the nail on the head on the first try. Athos was suddenly rigid and his face lost all trace of emotion.

“Athos?” Porthos prompted gently. Athos looked at him and Porthos found himself wanting to flinch from the stony expression.

“Hey, hey. Athos. You agreed to talk about this. What's going on?” Aramis asked, feeling Porthos tense up in his arms.

Athos switched his gaze to Aramis and found his resolve weakened by the concern on Aramis' face.

“May I make a guess and ask you a slightly personal question, friend?” Aramis asked tentatively.

There a long tense moment before Athos finally nodded jerkily.

“Are you craving physical affection?” Aramis asked, barely above a whisper.

Athos froze again but this time his eyes were wild and Porthos squeezed Aramis' leg in warning.

“I think you're experiencing similar to Porthos,” he said gently. Athos was caught off-guard and frowned.

“When Porthos and I found each other, he didn't know how to lean on people. May I tell him, my love?”

Porthos nodded.

“Porthos was an orphan. He grew up in the Court of Miracles. As I'm sure you can appreciate, he never learned to be affectionate and grew up without love.”

“S'enough, Sire,” Porthos said quietly, a pleading in his voice. Aramis nodded and resumed stroking his arm.

“When he and I got together, he reacted similarly to you and kept seizing up whenever I got too close or he felt he needed something from me. He got the most stoic when I got particularly close to whatever it was he was unwilling or unable to ask for.” Aramis said quietly.

They sat in silence. Porthos and Aramis weren't sure what to do. They could tell from Athos' rigid form they'd worked it out correctly but didn't want to push him. Athos desperately wanted to tell them yes but couldn't volunteer the information.

Porthos couldn't take the tension any longer.

“Sit with us,” Porthos said, his voice full of exhaustion. Athos looked confused since he was already sat facing them.

“He means sit with us the way he is sat with me,” Aramis interpreted, his voice soft.

A shadow of longing passed across Athos' face.

Porthos squeezed Aramis' thigh in warning of what he was about to do and felt Aramis' arms loosen their hold on him. Porthos leaned forward as if trying to stand. Athos rushed forward onto his knees and placed his hands on Porthos' shoulders, gently pressing him back against Aramis' chest. Aramis pulled Porthos gently by the waist, sitting him up a little straighter. Athos hovered above them.

Porthos reached up and caught Athos' wrist gently. Aramis placed his hand over Porthos' as well. They both tugged slightly and Athos let himself be pulled forwards. He let Aramis' gentle yet insistent hands turn him around until he was sat between Porthos' legs. Porthos' weak hands rejoined Aramis' and they pressed him back against Porthos.

Athos was trembling. He was terribly unsure and was still holding himself rigid. He heard Aramis kiss Porthos' ear and suddenly all four hands were stroking him calmly. Aramis' long fingers were stroking up and down his arms, gently trailing from his wrists up to his shoulders and back again. Porthos had settled his arms around Athos' waist, stroking his ribs gently through his doublet.

“Wait, wait,” Athos said softly and he stilled Porthos' hands. He leaned forward slightly and the two men behind him shared a worried look. Aramis realised first what Athos was doing and reached around him to help his shaking fingers undo his jacket.

Porthos was growing frustrated that he was too weak to keep his arms up. He was less and less drowsy but physically he was just so exhausted. Aramis felt his tension and picked up one of Porthos' hands and lay it on Athos' thigh so he didn't feel so useless.

Athos felt Aramis finally tugging his doublet down his arms and laying it to the side. He noticed Porthos' hand on his thigh and wasn't surprised to see Aramis' join it. Aramis used his other arm to pull Athos gently back against them both again. Athos took deep breaths, feeling utterly overwhelmed at the sensations running through him. Even with... her... he never felt safe and protected. It was always the other way around.

Aramis drew Porthos' other arm up and wrapped it back around Athos' waist, covering it with his own. He exhaled a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding when Athos lay his hands on top of theirs, one on his thigh, one on his waist.

Porthos' chest rumbled as he sagged back against Aramis, suddenly exhausted again. He felt his eyes growing heavy, surrounded by his brothers. He fluttered his fingers against Athos and was grateful for Aramis' steady hands holding his against Athos.

Aramis felt Athos stir at the slight movement.

“Shh, Athos my friend, still. Let him sleep, please. Relax with us. Sleep if you can. I've got you both,” he murmured softly, his thumb escaping from their clasped hands and stroking slightly.

Athos relaxed against them and marvelled at the effect the steady warmth was having. He felt a cold spot in his stomach he'd never noticed before beginning to melt. He let himself fall asleep in the arms of someone else, feeling nothing but safety and affection, for the first time in his life.

Aramis listened quietly to the breathing of his brothers. Porthos' breathing was still faster and shallower than normal but Aramis was grateful that Porthos was remembering his instructions and keeping him informed. He knew the stronger Porthos' mind got, the harder he would be to keep in place.

Aramis switched his attention to Athos. He'd never seen Athos looking so small as he did now. Athos shifted, half asleep. Aramis lifted all three of their arms up slightly and watched as Athos turned slightly to the side. Aramis settled their arms back down and pulled Athos close.

Athos didn't sleep very long. Aramis felt him stirring after only about twenty minutes. He wasn't surprised to feel panic rising in Athos.

“Athos. I'm here, Athos. It's just us. We've got you,” he murmured softly, tugging their arms around him gently.

Athos woke up properly and took in his surroundings. He'd turned onto his side slightly and only had to turn his head a little bit to see the faces of his friends. Porthos' head had fallen back onto Aramis' shoulder and he was still asleep. Aramis, however, was looking at him with bright shining eyes.

“You didn't sleep?” he asked shyly.

“I told I had you both,” Aramis said softly. Athos smiled gratefully.

They sat together in comfortable silence for another half an hour until Porthos woke up. They both felt him wake with a start and Athos made to get up, assuming it was feeling closed in that made him jump. Aramis held him fast. Athos was surprised at the determination in Aramis' grasp. He watched, fascinated, as Aramis dipped his head to Porthos' ear.

“Hi my beautiful boy,” he whispered.

Porthos' face immediately broke into a smile and he nuzzled against Aramis' neck.

“Sire,” he breathed.

Athos smiled, watching the exchange. He made to stand up and this time wasn't stopped. He put his doublet back on and went to swap the horses around.

Porthos hissed slightly as Aramis helped him to his feet, an arm tightly held round his waist.

“Sire, may I please relieve myself?”

Aramis considered for a moment.

“Sure you can manage?” he asked, searching Porthos' face. He understood Porthos would be frustrated, having not been able to do anything unassisted since he was injured. He didn't want him to push himself, though.

“Would you help me, please?” Porthos asked, colour in his cheeks. Aramis nodded.

“OK, then. Let's give it a go, then. I'm not going to guarantee I'll let you do this again if you hide any pain or difficulty from me. Do you understand?” Aramis asked, not inviting discussion.

Yes, Sire,” he said quickly, a rush of gratitude.

Athos watched them slowly walk deeper into the trees, correctly guessing they were answering the call of nature and found he didn't feel any envy for their closeness any more. Having the two of them so eager to be close to him had confirmed that while he loved them and needed their comfort, he wasn't in love with either of them.

Meanwhile in the trees, Porthos was leaning forward with his hands braced on a tree and was laughing breathlessly as Aramis was crouched at his side, fumbling with the laces on his breeches.

"These knots are far too tight," Aramis grumbled.

“You did them up, Sire!”

“I know... You'll just have to be patient my love. Wait there,” he said, grinning.

“You're killing me, love,” Porthos laughed. Aramis laughed as well and finally got the laces on both of his garments undone. He gently held Porthos' flaccid member while he relieved himself and tucked him away neatly.

Porthos smiled and quickly began to frown as Aramis didn't get up. He looked down and began to laugh as Aramis was pouting at his replaced clothes.

“Sire, my arms are going to give out soon,” he said, still laughing. Aramis sighed dramatically and stood up, coming up under his shaking arms and replaced his own arm around Porthos' waist.

They slowly returned to the clearing and found Athos waiting patiently for them.

“You look better,” said Porthos, nodding at his relaxed face.

“You, too,” Athos replied, smiling.

They helped Porthos into the wagon and he found himself exhausted. The short walk to the trees and back had worn out what little energy he'd had. Athos walked round and mounted the wagon. He blinked in surprise as Aramis climbed up onto the seat beside him.

“Joining me?” he asked, surprised how shy he sounded.

“Porthos is out of danger and I think he's asleep. I thought I'd spend some time with you if you're amenable to that,” he said lightly. Athos nodded and Aramis lay his hand on Athos' thigh to keep them connected. Athos smiled bashfully and moved the horses off.

 


	6. Emotional flare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aramis pushes too far and Porthos tags himself in

They rode in silence for a few miles. Porthos had fallen asleep quite quickly and Athos and Aramis were both lost in thought.

Athos was still considering carefully what it meant to be seeking comfort from the others. He wasn't too concerned about the fact that he felt better near them. They had been friends for a couple of years now. He was absolutely positive he didn't love them. He'd tried and tried to find some sort of romantic connection but it wasn't there. Why, then, was the physical contact making such a specific difference? He glanced down at Aramis' hand, resting on his knee, and it felt, to him, like a warm tether to the world.

Aramis didn't notice Athos' glance. He was frowning to himself. He'd begun to worry about what would happen when they got back to Paris. He supposed himself and Athos would be expected to join the six Musketeers left in Paris as part of the Queen's guard. They were the only ones who hadn't gone to La Rochelle. Who would take care of Porthos, though? He was still physically weak and he knew, without a doubt, Porthos wouldn't accept help from anyone else while Aramis was on duty. He might accept it from Athos. Would they be able to swing it so that only one of them was ever on duty? When would they sleep, though? If he was left alone he would go stir crazy. If he pushed himself too far and re-opened that wound, would anyone find him in time?

Aramis went cold at the thought. His mind flashed him back to that moment in Poitiers when he got his first look at the wound. There was so much blood. He felt a sudden crippling chill at the thought of how close he'd come to losing him. If they hadn't been camping so nearby... Aramis shook himself.

“Aramis?”

Aramis smiled sadly at Athos.

“I'm fine, Athos. I was just dwelling on the 'what if's in the world,” he said.

“You mean what if Porthos had died?” Athos asked, shrewdly.

“Indeed,” Aramis answered sadly. He shook himself again and they fell quiet for a few minutes.

“How did you know it was love?” Athos asked suddenly. Aramis just chuckled.

“We come alive when we're together. I love my job but on the rare occasion we're separated, it's like a part of me is always looking for him. I think I always have been. My entire life was leading me to him. I've never felt so complete and **right** before him,” Aramis answered, turning his head to look at the sleeping man.

“You do see other women?” Athos asked carefully. Aramis turned back to him with a smile.

“I do,” he answered. Athos breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't offended. “I love easily and I choose to express that love physically. He, however, is more than that. I don't know what word to use. I more than love him. He is the other half of me. I would never ever betray him and I will always come home to him.”

“Glad to hear it,” said a rough voice behind them.

“You heard that?” asked Aramis, chuckling. He climbed carefully into the back of the wagon and lay down beside Porthos.

“I always hear you,” said Porthos. Athos heard them kiss lightly and felt himself smile.

“You didn't at Châtellerault,” replied Aramis quietly. Athos heard the pain in Aramis' voice and hated himself for how hard he was listening to their conversation.

 

“Hmm?” Porthos said, confused.

“When we stopped at the inn. You had been in and out for three days and I tried to talk to you but... you...” his voice cracked and he paused. Athos winced, remembering that awful night when they'd thought he might die.

“Did you know that I can touch your face while you're sleeping and you come to me? You can be completely lost in sensation and still, you find me if I come close to you. I can put you in such agony that you weep and your body will **still** always seek my touch,” Aramis continued quietly. He paused again. “In that inn, I reached out to you and you didn't feel me. I was so so close to losing you, Porthos. I never want to feel that again.”

Athos' heart ached listening to the sincerity in Aramis' voice. He remembered that moment when Aramis had stroked his face on the bed. He hadn't noticed anything wrong.

There was a heavy silence. The only sounds were of the horses and the regular noise from the cart's rumbling.

“I was that close to dying?” Porthos asked, thickly. Aramis nodded at him, unable to speak. The fear he had been doing a good job of hiding since hearing Porthos' yell on the battlefield was threatening to consume him.

“I'm here now,” said Porthos firmly, shaking himself slightly. “You saved me, Aramis. You'd never let me get away from me that easily,” he added, a light teasing lifting his tone.

Aramis laughed and Athos couldn't resist turning around and looking at the pair. It was as if all the tension Aramis had been carrying since Poitiers was lifted. Athos turned back to the road. It seemed all he'd needed was to tell Porthos how he'd been feeling. They genuinely had no secrets. Perhaps they really were two halves of the whole.

Athos listened to them for a few minutes but it seemed Aramis was simply filling him in how they'd got to the inn. He tuned them out to think. His mind kept coming back to one particular thing Aramis had said. He didn't say 'how much agony you're in'. He had specifically, definitely said 'how much agony **I put** you in'. What did that mean?

Aramis had made many a crude joke over the years about enjoying a playful bit of spanking but agony? That implies something much more than normal sex would involve. In the past Athos himself had enjoyed a little bit of biting occasionally with... her. But agony? What does that mean? Why was he stuck on it? It wasn't out of concern for Porthos. He clearly wasn't bothered. What was it that was making him obsess?

He brooded over this for a couple of hours and as he lit the lantern on the wagon, was beginning to berate himself for the images floating through his head. He knew he shouldn't have thought about it too much. It had taken him years to stop those awful desires.

“Athos?

He looked around, startled. Aramis' head was poking out the wagon.

“Yes?” he asked sharply. He realised from the slightly confused look on Aramis' face that he must have already asked him once and this annoyed him all the more.

“We were wondering what you intended for us about eating and sleeping. Porthos doesn't want to sleep any more today because he wants to try and sleep through the night. We weren't sure if you were intending to stop at an inn again or resume camping,” he said tentatively, slightly taken aback by the anger on Athos' face.

“I'd like to get as far as possible tonight,” he answered curtly.

Aramis looked back at Porthos who pushed him slightly. Aramis clambered out the back of the wagon and resumed his seat beside Athos.

“Athos?” he asked again.

Athos didn't answer and just abruptly pulled the cart off the road and stepped down to change the horses over. He jumped as he felt Aramis' hand on his shoulder. Aramis leaned over him and took over. Athos stood uselessly to the side, staring at Aramis.

“What is it, my friend?” asked Aramis tiredly, turning to him when the resting horse was securely tied to the back of the cart. Athos had followed him silently and stood staring at him without a word. Aramis sighed.

“I'm driving. You can sit with Porthos for a while,” Aramis said firmly, walking away from him. Athos blinked and followed him.

“I will drive,” Athos said flatly.

Aramis turned suddenly and gripped him by the shoulders. He backed him up a step and pinned him against the wagon.

“Spit it out,” he insisted.

“Take your hands off me,” Athos said, warningly.

“I will beat it out of you if I have to,” Aramis said.

He'd intended it as a joke to relax him but Athos' eyes went wide as saucers and he pushed Aramis away violently and walked away into the growing dark. Aramis staggered backwards and watched him go.

“Sire?” came a voice. Aramis climbed into the back of the wagon, confused. “I heard most of that. What happened?”

“I honestly don't know,” replied Aramis, bewildered.

“Sounds like you hit a sore spot,” he said gently.

“I didn't mean to,” said Aramis miserably.

They sat in silence, slightly unsure what to do. They felt the wagon move as Athos remounted the driving seat.

“Athos?” asked Porthos quietly, laying a hand on Aramis' knee to stop him talking.

“I apologise, gentlemen,” he said quietly. “Let's get going.”

“Sire, do you think I could sit up front for the last couple of hours? I'm so stiff,” he pleaded quietly.

Aramis nodded miserably, lost in thought.

“Athos, will you help me?”

Athos frowned. He was suspicious that Porthos was going to continue where Aramis had left off but he was at least appreciative of the rest from Aramis. He got down and walked around to where Porthos was struggling out of the wagon. He helped him out awkwardly, doubting the plan when he staggered slightly.

“If you let him hurt himself,” Aramis said, not needing to finish the warning.

“You'll beat me for it?” snapped Athos, glaring at him.

There was a tense silence as Aramis and Athos glared at each other. Porthos chose this moment to sway and Athos stepped in to support him. Aramis started forwards out of reflex but caught Porthos' eye. Porthos had faked it.

Athos walked him round to the front of the cart and carefully helped him up to the passenger seat. Porthos might have faked the sway that broke their tension but he wasn't faking the one now, holding himself upright.

Athos settled beside him and watched him trembling.

“Are you sure you're ready for this?” he asked softly.

Porthos slung his arm around Athos' shoulders and leaned on him slightly.

“That's better. Takes some of the pressure off” he answered honestly. Athos considered him for a moment and realised he did feel more steady. He simply nodded and moved the horses off.

After an hour or so Porthos asked him what Athos had been dreading.

“What did he say to upset you?”

“Not important, Porthos,” he said flatly.

“Yes, you are,” said Porthos, deliberately misunderstanding him. Athos gave him a long look in the lantern light. He was resenting how much easier it was to open up with Porthos' steady warmth draped across him.

“Do you not trust us?” pressed Porthos.

“I am simply worried for you,” he answered quietly, too low for his voice to carry.

“What about us?” asked Porthos, taking his cue and speaking too quietly for Aramis to hear.

“You specifically, Porthos,” whispered Athos, glancing back at the wagon.

Porthos understood instantly.

“You think he hurts me?” asked Porthos softly. Athos nodded. “Because of what he said earlier about how I seek him out when in pain?”

“When he puts you in pain,” corrected Athos.

“It's by mutual agreement,” Porthos said simply. Athos raised an eyebrow. “Our relationship isn't normal. Nor is our private life,” he said quietly.

He watched Athos blush in the lantern light curiously.

“You've never felt better after an intense fight or workout?” Porthos asked, studying him.

Athos didn't reply.

“You're fine that we love each other. You're fine that we lay together. You're fine we live together. You're fine that he bosses me around. You're tellin' me you're appalled at our use of pain?” Porthos said incredulously.

When Athos didn't answer, Porthos tugged lightly on his shoulders.

“It's not right,” Athos answered softly.

“The rest is?” pressed Porthos. Again, Athos didn't answer. Porthos let him sit quietly for about ten minutes.

“Can I ask you something, Athos?”

Athos didn't respond.

“Do you think that's a bad desire because it's one you have had?” Porthos whispered.

Athos sat up suddenly, the movement startling Porthos. He quickly leaned away from Athos, which made him yell in pain as he struggled to hold himself upright. Athos quickly pulled Porthos towards him. Porthos was now leaning heavily on him, his hand on his waist, breathing hard.

Athos heard Aramis moving and looked up expectantly. His face was like absolute thunder. There was a rage on it Athos had never seen before. Athos quickly halted the horses with his spare hand and Aramis disappeared to jump off the cart and round to Porthos' side.

“Porthos?” he asked softly. Porthos didn't reply. He was grunting in pain and clutching his side. “Porthos?” he repeated, slightly louder.

“Master,” gasped Porthos, reaching out with his free arm. Aramis took his hand and squeezed it. Porthos squeezed it in return and let go, immediately calmed. Athos had flinched at the term 'Master' but couldn't deny the calming reassurance just the touch of Aramis' hand provided Porthos.

Together, the two of them helped Porthos down and sat him down against a nearby tree.

“We'll camp here,” said Athos quietly. Aramis shot him a murderous look and crouched down beside Porthos.

“You be good while we get set up, my love,” he murmured. Porthos nodded.

Aramis led the horses well off the road, parking the wagon beside a clearing. Athos quickly set up their tent while Aramis tended to the horses for the night.

Aramis returned as Athos was just finishing. He checked on Porthos briefly and found he was bleeding. He returned to the wagon to get his medical kit and heard Athos approaching.

“It was an accident,” Athos said stiffly.

“What happened?” asked Aramis. Athos was startled that he didn't seem angry but sounded very tired.

“He asked me something I wasn't expecting and I was startled. It jostled him and he leaned back too quickly,” Athos replied.

“Help me get him into the tent, please,” Aramis said quietly.

“You don't want to know what he asked me?”

“I do but later. He is my priority,” Aramis replied, without heat.

Porthos yelped when they moved him but calmed down quickly. They lay him face down in the middle of the tent and Aramis sat beside him cross-legged. He was relieved to see when he looked at the wound that the bleeding had already stopped and none of the needlework was torn. Aramis re-bandaged it and lay his hand on Porthos' hair. Porthos raised his head and nuzzled his hand gently.

Aramis raised his eyes to Athos and saw him watching the gesture avidly. Athos noticed Aramis watching him and excused himself to collect some dinner.

“Gently, Sire,” said Porthos quietly. Aramis took a deep breath and nodded.

  
  


They ate quietly, tension filling the tent. Aramis collected their dishes together and returned them to the wagon, closing it for the night. Returning to the tent, he smiled seeing Athos had been persuaded to lay down close to Porthos' side. Athos started to move over but Porthos stopped him.

“He won't sleep in the middle,” he said gently. Aramis smiled and stretched out on Athos' other side. They took their position from the inn and joined hands across Athos' stomach.

“Don't scare me like that, my darling,” Aramis said, gazing at Porthos.

“Sorry, Sire,” he replied, grinning. “Wasn't me this time,” he added, nudging Athos.

“So?” Aramis asked gently but expectantly.

Porthos turned his head to look at Athos as well.

“Porthos suggested I might desire pain,” Athos said, stiffly.

“Was I right?” asked Porthos bluntly.

“Yes,” replied Athos, meeting Porthos' eyes defiantly.

“Peace, Athos my friend. There's no need to be defensive. It's something you share with us. We won't judge you for it,” Aramis said soothingly.

“It's...” Athos fell silent. The pair of them just lay quietly letting him collect his thoughts.

“It is not healthy,” he said at last.

“Why do you say so?” Aramis asked gently. “His is,” he replied, gesturing at Porthos, who grinned.

“You like it?” Athos asked.

“No,” he answered returning his gaze to Athos. “I like him,” he said, nodding at Aramis. Aramis smiled at him.

“You can tell him,” Aramis said softly. Porthos smiled.

“I like pain for lots of reasons. I like the stress relief, I like some of the sensations, I like the emotions. I like the connection to him,” Porthos said, shrugging.

“Aramis?” asked Athos slightly.

“Feels good to hurt him,” he said bluntly. Porthos glared at him and Aramis sighed. “I love him. I'd do anything for him. He enjoys it, I enjoy it, why wouldn't I? Like he said, sometimes it's just stress relief. If he needs my help to release some sort of tension or upset, I will, of course, help him out.”

Athos nodded and the trio fell silent again.

“I've only ever told one person before,” Athos said quietly. “It did not go well.”

“I don't mean to push you, friend, but is it something you think you'd ever actually seek?” Aramis asked softly.

Porthos shot him a warning look. Athos didn't notice and just looked at Aramis.

“I'd like to say no but I cannot guarantee that, I don't think,” Athos replied quietly.

“Porthos,” Aramis said softly.

“Yes?”

“Explain why I asked, please.”

“I... Do I have to?” Porthos asked hesitantly. Athos frowned in confusion, looking between the pair.

“Yes please,” Aramis said quietly.

“Sire, please,” Porthos whispered.

“Porthos,” Aramis said crisply.

Porthos took a deep breath.

“We told you I was an orphan in the Court of Miracles. While I was there... I sought out pain in... an unhealthy way. It left me with lots of scars because I... didn't look after myself properly,” Porthos said quietly. While he speaking, he never actually looked at Athos. His eyes never left Aramis'.

Aramis nodded at him and stroked the back of his hand with his thumb.

Athos was silent for a long time.

“So you are saying that should I seek out that desire, I should so it with someone I can trust?” he asked slowly.

They both nodded.

“Thank you for your advice. I shall take it under advisement” he said formally.

Silence fell again but all the tension seemed to have left them.

“Anyone mind if I douse the lantern?” Aramis asked after a while. When he received no response, he raised himself up and plunged the tent into darkness. Settling back down, he pressed himself against Athos and one by one, they fell asleep.

 


	7. More insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos watches their relationship in action and Aramis makes a surprising offer

Athos was lost in terrible dreams of being beaten and whipped beyond what he could take. He was bleeding on the floor, struggling to survive. He suddenly realised it was Porthos on the floor. Porthos was on the floor, blood pouring from many wounds on his back. He searched for Aramis to tell him and found he, too, had been beaten. Aramis, normally so vibrant, was slumped against the wall, a smear of blood on the wall where he seemed to have slid down it. Fear gripped his heart and he searched wildly for who had taken his friends. He finally found the person who had done it.

They were splattered from head to toe in blood and holding one of those dreadful knotted whips. Athos studied their face. It was her. He knew. He caused this. If he hadn't... She wouldn't... Someone grabbed his arm and was pulling him away from her. He had to stop her! It was his fault! She should take it out on him. He was the one who deserved it. Not them. The hand was pulling harder. They didn't understand!

Consciousness came rushing upon him. He opened his eyes and struggled to remember where he was. The hand on his arm was growing more insistent and he looked down to see Porthos' hand gripping him tighter.

“'ello,” Porthos said softly. Athos stared at him. He hadn't moved a muscle but his eyes were searching wildly.

“Athos,” murmured Aramis gently. He flicked his eyes to his other side and saw Aramis, who was propped up on one hand. He followed the line of Aramis' other arm and found it still resting on his stomach.

“You OK?” asked Porthos, his voice still soft. Athos nodded frantically.

“Are you both?” he croaked. The pair either side of him exchanged a glance.

“We're fine, my friend. It's late. Go back to sleep. There's hours yet,” Aramis said soothingly. Athos shook his head firmly.

Porthos let go of his arm and reached across him to his opposite shoulder. He tugged gently. Aramis saw what he was doing and joined in. Together they rolled Athos onto his side, facing Porthos.

Athos was still too stiff to resist and ended up pressed against Porthos' chest. Porthos' arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close. He heard Aramis moving until he pressed against him from behind.

Porthos and Aramis wrapped their arms around each other, across the stiff body of Athos. They felt Athos holding himself still.

“Athos, we're all here. We're safe,” Porthos murmured into Athos' hair. He shared a relieved look with Aramis as they both felt Athos relax between them.

None of them slept much more. Each of them just dozed lightly, waking up at the slightest shift from each other and drifting back off. They all just accepted the comfort and closeness of one another.

As the pre-dawn light started to filter through the trees, Athos stirred. Porthos leaned back and smiled at him.

“Time to go?” he asked softly. Athos nodded. “I'll wake Aramis.”

Porthos leaned across Athos to brush Aramis' hair out of his eyes.

“Aramis,” he murmured. Aramis smiled but didn't open his eyes. Porthos grinned. “Aaaarrramissss,” he repeated in a sing-song voice. Aramis' smiled widened . “Aaaaaaarrrrrramisssssssssss,” he said again.

Athos felt Aramis chuckle behind him and smiled. Porthos gave a dramatic sigh.

“Would you please, kindly, if you would like, grace us with your presence, Master?” Porthos teased. Athos chuckled too. Aramis gave a sarcastic groan.

“Oh, very well. If neither of you can possibly live without me,” he said, stretching.

The three of them laughed easily.

Aramis rolled onto his back and Athos sat up between them.

“Feeling better?” Aramis asked, looking up at Athos. Athos nodded.

“I am. It was just difficult to talk about and it stirred up some uncomfortable dreams,” he answered honestly.

The pair nodded in understanding.

“Time to go. We'll move off in an hour. I'll go and prepare the horses. Will you be OK with the tent on your own, Aramis?”

“Should be,” Aramis answered. Porthos grumbled. “You think after yesterday I'll let you help take a tent down? You nearly ruined my beautiful needlework just by sitting up,” he scolded gently.

Porthos chuckled. Aramis helped Porthos to sit against a nearby tree and quickly took the tent down. He watched with envy as Aramis worked through their daily exercises.

“Can I at least take a walk before we leave?”

“Hmm. That's not a bad idea. We'll start doing that each time we stop.”

As Aramis was loading the wagon, Athos returned with the three horses in tow.

“Good timing,” he observed. Aramis smiled. “We'll eat on the move. I want to make good progress today.”

“Porthos wants to take a walk first,” Aramis replied, helping him up. Porthos twisted experimentally. Aramis raised his eyebrows.

“Very tender,” he answered.

“OK,” Athos said and followed them.

They walked together in silence for a few minutes. Aramis turned them around and on the way back, Porthos started leaning on him more and more heavily. When they reached the wagon, Porthos lay down without protest.

“You're healing better than I thought, my love, but you're still not as strong as I'd like. I really would like you to try and save strength,” Aramis said, leaning on the wagon as Porthos burrowed into the blankets in exhaustion.

“What would you like me to do, Sire?” Porthos asked, seeing the frown on his face.

“I think I'd like you to return to being passive,” he said quietly. Athos listened carefully.

“Sire, I-”

Aramis cut him off.

“You've been pushing yourself too hard, my boy,” Aramis said firmly. I will take your points on board that you would like to be more physically active but I would like you to stay quiet and rest, please.”

Athos watched, mesmerised. He'd never actually seen Aramis give an order like this. It was one thing to watch him gently nudge Porthos into doing the right thing but he was absolutely fascinated watching a direct instruction. He was especially curious to see how Porthos would react since it was clearly something he disagreed with.

“May I have specifics, Sire?” Porthos asked unhappily.

“If I place you somewhere, you may shift slightly to stay comfortable. Anything else, you'll need to come to me. I'll accept you reaching for me to get my attention but it needs to be for a reason, not just to say hello. OK, my boy?” Aramis replied quietly.

Porthos flicked his eyes to Athos, unsure about whether this would make him uncomfortable. He looked back at Aramis.

“Yes, Master,” he said quietly. Aramis beamed at him and climbed in gently beside him.

Athos shook himself and walked round to his driving seat. He moved the horses off, still slightly in awe of how easily Porthos had submitted.

He heard Aramis moving around and glanced back to see he'd lifted Porthos' head into his lap and was feeding him some breakfast. Aramis looked up at him and smiled.

“I do hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable, my friend,” he said quietly, turning his attention back to Porthos.

“I told you I accepted you both. That hasn't changed. I will admit it took me slightly by surprise to see such overt control but I see that you have his best interests at heart,” Athos said softly. He turned back to the road.

After a while Aramis joined him, settling down and placing his hand back on Athos' knee. Athos glanced down at his hand but didn't comment.

“This OK?” Aramis asked gently.

“Yes. I apologise for that moment yesterday. I wasn't ready to open up but I reacted badly,” he said quietly. He gathered the reins in one hand and lay his other hand on top of Aramis'.

“I should not have pushed so hard, my friend. I certainly shouldn't have handled you like I did, nor threatened you,” Aramis replied sincerely. Athos sighed.

“I think that actually helped loosen my tongue, Aramis. I didn't see it as a threat, per sé,” Athos said slowly. He fell silent and Aramis squeezed his knee gently. After a while Athos continued.

“I didn't see you as a threat to my person. I saw you as a threat to my reality,” he said, with difficulty.

Aramis frowned, trying to work out what he meant. Athos saw him struggling.

“I have spent all my life trying to suppress those desires I thought were unhealthy. I trained harder than anyone I knew to become an accomplished swordsman so that I could always defend myself. Then having you so close to me, talking about...” he trailed off.

“Having me threaten to beat you made you realise it was possible?” Aramis asked gently.

Again, Athos tensed and his eyes went wide.

“Erroneously think it might be possible,” Athos corrected him. Aramis squeezed his thigh gently.

“Realise is the correct word,” he said in a whisper. Athos blushed and swallowed hard. Aramis fell silent and Athos was grateful for the break.

After a few hours, Athos pulled off the road to change the horses. Aramis walked round to check on Porthos who smiled brightly at him.

“Come on, then,” Aramis said, chuckling.

Porthos grunted in pain as they stood unsteadily. They walked together, a shorter distance this time. Porthos tugged on his arm as Aramis turned them around.

“Nature calling?” Aramis asked. Porthos nodded. “Tough,” he replied. Porthos' eyes widened.

“Just because you're hurt doesn't mean I can't play with you, my boy,” he whispered. “I assume you were just taking the opportunity but could actually wait until lunch?”

Porthos nodded, dipping his head.

“Splendid! I think a day completely without choices will do you a world of good,” he replied happily and they walked slowly back to the cart.

Athos watched in concern. Porthos seemed subdued.

“Is he all right?” asked Athos as they pulled back onto the road. Aramis just smirked and nodded. Athos looked sideways at him, clearly missing something that had amused him.

When they stopped for lunch, Aramis took Porthos into the woods, declining Athos' company. Returning, Athos noticed the pair were both grinning and he felt another pang of loneliness.

They sat down to eat the last of their food, Aramis settling Porthos between his legs, leaning him against his chest. Athos tried to hide his fascination when Aramis stopped Porthos trying to eat and resumed feeding him. Aramis and Porthos both noticed Athos watching them but chose not to comment.

They sat in contented silence for a while after they ate and Aramis felt Porthos sinking under, sagging against him. This was what he needed. He ran his hands up and down Porthos' sides, feeling all the muscles relaxed under him. He'd been so busy trying to heal that he'd been physically tense. He prodded Porthos gently and he leaned forwards so Aramis could stand up.

Once Porthos was safely ensconced back in the wagon, Aramis rejoined Athos as they hit the road.

“Is he sleeping?” asked Athos.

“Sort of,” said Aramis without looking. ”Drowsy more than sleeping.”

“Do you think he'd cope if I picked up the pace? I was hoping to reach Orléans by nightfall,” he said quietly.

“I think that's slightly ambitious. I don't really want him jostled when he's... so calm,” he finished hesitantly.

“Beaugency?” Athos asked. Aramis conceded. They rode on in silence, clasping their hands together on Athos' knee once more.

As the sky darkened, Aramis was beginning to feel drowsy.

“Do you worry about him losing himself?” Athos asked in the silence, startling Aramis.

“Hmm?” he asked, confused.

“When he obeys you like that. Do you worry that the brash, defiant Porthos we rely on is being lost?”

Aramis considered the question carefully and blinked in surprise when Porthos' hand touched his hip.

“You'd like to answer?” he asked. Porthos nodded. “You may, but make it quick, please.”

“Thank you Master,” Porthos said quickly. “I am more myself when I obey Aramis than I ever am when I defy him. It's the **way** I love him. He's the only person I give myself to and I am a better person for it,” he explained. He looked at Aramis who reached in and patted him on the cheek.

“Enough, boy. Thank you,” he said softly. Porthos withdrew his arm and returned to the darkness of the wagon.

“Should we light the lantern for him?” Athos asked.

“No. He'll settle in the dark,” Aramis said, fully aware Porthos would still be able to hear him.

“You're...” Athos stopped again and frowned. Aramis squeezed his hand gently.

“I'm stripping him of control, Athos. It's not often I extend this level of control over him, although he would allow me to. Without having to concern himself with any decisions, he will relax and lean on me entirely. He will heal better for it. None of his energy will be focussed on how to lay, when to eat, when to stop, making conversation. Even this, he'll be forced to just close his eyes and move along in the dark. Making him abdicate responsibility for his well-being will stop him trying to pretend he's better than he is,” Aramis explained calmly, watching the horses.

Athos studied his face.

“There's something more,” Athos said shrewdly.

“He nearly died, Athos. This is my way of confirming he's still here and still with me. I will hold him as tightly as I possibly can until both of us are reassured,” Aramis said, turning to look at him.

“That makes a certain kind of sense,” Athos replied and squeezed Aramis' hand in return.

“Should your need for pain ever overcome you, I would ask you seek us out,” Aramis said softly. Athos tensed.

“You know we would never judge you, friend. You have worked out I cause Porthos enough pain to term it agony and yet he's never missed a day of duty so surely you're intelligent enough to work out I am skilled. Porthos, too, has that ability, believe me,” Aramis said quietly, grinning at his last comment.

He was relieved see to a smile twitching the corners of Athos' mouth.

“I would have you seek us out for assistance rather than putting yourself in danger. I will leave it at that, Athos.”

Athos couldn't speak. He was struggling to comprehend what a huge thing Aramis had just offered him. He settled for nodding and was reassured by the squeeze on his knee.

 


	8. Growing closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Three Musketeers spend an evening together at an inn.

They made it to Beaugency very late and very hungry. There had been a particularly bumpy patch on the road and Aramis had made Athos slow down. Only one room was available so they took Porthos and their essential belongings up quite quickly, ordering some food to be brought as they went.

Porthos was quite drowsy, which wasn't a surprise to Aramis. Instead of settling him straight into bed, he sat Porthos in a chair in their room. Aramis shed his coat and drew the low table close to sit down. He laid his hand on Porthos' knee and studied his scarred face.

“Hear me, boy?” asked Aramis softly. Porthos nodded.

“How's the pain? Better?” Porthos nodded again.

“Do you think you can sit up unaided?” Porthos paused. He straightened slightly in his chair and then shook his head, relaxing to the side again. Aramis patted his knee. “Thank you for your honesty, boy. Relax.”

Athos frowned slightly at him.

“He seems to have gotten worse,” he said, worry in his voice. He had settled in one of the other chairs.

“He hasn't. He's just being more honest. He's not forcing himself to struggle through the pain and pretend he's fine,” Aramis said and began removing Porthos' boots.

Athos collected the food from the door, when there was a knock. He ate quietly, watching as Aramis fed Porthos. When he was done, Aramis stroked his cheek and Athos watched with sudden understanding of an earlier conversation when Porthos leaned into it. They sat in a comfortable silence as Aramis ate his supper.

Aramis yawned and Athos nodded backwards to the bed. He stood and whispered into Aramis' ear.

“Can I try moving him while he's so under your spell?” asked Athos shyly.

“Why?” asked Aramis warily.

“I apologise,” he said, stepping backwards.

“I just need to know why,” Aramis said, reaching out and taking his hand.

Athos looked at the floor.

“To feel close to you both,” he said, almost too quiet for Aramis to hear.

“Be incredibly careful,” he said meaningfully.

Porthos tensed when he realised it wasn't Aramis moving him. He opened his eyes and glanced at Athos before sweeping the room for Aramis. Aramis was sat opposite him, removing his own boots. He smiled reassuringly at Porthos.

Porthos turned his eyes back to Athos and let himself be tugged to his feet. He leaned against Athos but couldn't help being uncertain that it wasn't Aramis while he was so defenceless. He was reassured to feel Aramis at his back, following them.

Athos settled him in the centre of the bed and Aramis clenched his fists, hearing Porthos' gasp of pain as he lay down. He relaxed when he saw Porthos settle comfortably. He pulled off his coat and turned to Athos, who was gazing at Porthos.

Aramis reached out and gently began to undo Athos' doublet. Athos blinked in surprise and let him take his jacket off.

“Are you sure you don't want to be in the middle?” Aramis asked gently. “While he's like this he'll need me to be in front of him where he can see me but I don't want you to feel on the edge again.”

Athos paused, touched by the consideration.

“I would like to be part of his support, Aramis,” he said softly. Aramis nodded.

Athos sat to remove his boots while Aramis moved to the bed and lay down in front of Porthos. He watched them as they smiled at each other. They were having one of their silent conversations again. He watched curiously as Aramis smirked and Porthos grinned at him.

Aramis leaned forward and kissed Porthos lightly before turning to Athos.

“Coming to bed?”

Athos nodded shyly and snuffed all the candles out. He felt his way in the darkness to the bed and lay down behind Porthos. He felt Porthos tense so kept his distance.

Aramis reached across Porthos, carefully avoiding his wound and groped around looking for Athos' hand. Finding it, he pulled him closer and felt Porthos sigh as Athos' hips touched Porthos. Emboldened by this, Athos moved closer so his chest was pressed against Porthos' back. Porthos hummed softly. Aramis arranged everyone's arms. He wrapped Porthos' arm around his own waist, settling his broad hand on his own bottom. He arranged his and Athos' arms so each of them had a hand on the other's hip.

Aramis felt all the tension in Porthos leak out as he was cradled from both sides. He felt a surprising hesitancy in Athos' hand and wondered if it was Porthos' affection he was seeking more than his own.

He felt Athos' hand twitch and sucked in a breath. Athos' fingers grew slightly bolder and began to stroke his hip slightly. Aramis matched his movements with his own hand, not wanting to startle or discourage Athos. He was simply curious what Athos wanted.

Athos felt his mouth go dry and he grew suddenly insecure. He pressed his fingers against Aramis' hip, unsure what to do. He felt Aramis match the pressure calmly.

Aramis decided to take a gamble. He kissed Porthos gently and both men heard Porthos sigh between them. Athos tentatively resumed stroking Aramis' hip. Aramis extended his arm slightly and settled his hand against Athos' lower back. He very gently put pressure on it and held Athos close against Porthos.

Athos gasped and Aramis felt his hand spasm on his hip. He began to move his hand on Athos' back in small soothing circles. He heard Porthos sigh again and wondered what caused it. Porthos' hand twitched on his buttocks.

“Master,” he murmured pleadingly.

“I said no talking, boy,” Aramis replied, his voice like a icy breeze in the darkness. Porthos shuddered and Aramis felt a small shiver go through Athos as well.

Aramis licked his lips nervously. He was rather hesitant to take anything further. He wasn't sure where Athos was. It seemed he was seeking something more than affection but he wasn't quite sure what. He couldn't be certain how Athos was reacting. Did he shiver just at the closeness or did he shiver because he was slipping down with Porthos?

Athos was feeling completely lost. He wasn't certain what he wanted. There was a hunger building in his belly he hadn't felt in years but he didn't love them that way. Would they welcome this? Was he just intruding? Would Aramis expect him to submit like Porthos? What would Porthos want? Was this even a possibility?

Aramis felt Athos tensing up and resumed stroking his back soothingly. He stretched forward and kissed Porthos softly, applying gentle pressure to Athos' back, pressing him closer to Porthos.

Athos leaned forwards slightly and very very lightly brushed his lips over the back of Porthos' neck and the darker man sighed again. This time Aramis realised what happened. He bit his lip and was dreadfully uncertain this would work.

He smoothed his hand down and lightly rested it on Athos' bottom. Athos shivered again and pressed himself slightly into Aramis' hand. Aramis debated for a moment.

“Move back, Athos. Give Porthos some room,” he whispered softly. He felt Athos tense up. “I can't reach you with him in the way,” he said, hiding the doubt in his voice.

Athos shuffled back and Aramis did the same. They gently turned Porthos onto his back between them and mirrored each other, propping themselves up on one elbow. Aramis' eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to be able to see vague facial expressions. He knew Porthos enough to be able to read him without sight. Athos was a new quantity.

Athos shuffled nervously and his hand hovered uncertainly. Aramis took his hand and gently kissed his palm. Athos shivered again.

“Athos,” he murmured quietly, holding Athos' hand to his mouth. “Find a way to let us know what you want and we will do all we can to provide it,” he said, kissing Athos palm again.

Athos froze.

“Shh, it doesn't have to be now. I know you're still working it out. I know you have doubts. Whenever you are ready, let us know. If you can't talk about it, you can show us what you want,” Aramis crooned softly.

Porthos reached for Athos but Aramis caught his wrist without looking and held his hand steady.

“I didn't say you can move,” Aramis said softly, without taking his eyes off Athos. Porthos dropped his hand but turned his head to gaze at Athos instead.

“You understand, Athos?” Aramis asked quietly. “I mean what I say. When I tell Porthos not to move without permission, I don't then change my mind when the mood changes. I mean every word I say,” he continued, his voice growing stronger.

Athos was utterly captivated.

“When I tell him not to move, I mean it. When I tell you we will never judge you, I mean it. When I tell you we will provide anything we can, I mean it,” Aramis said, his eyes never leaving Athos'.

He laid Athos' hand gently on Porthos' stomach and, without looking, put Porthos' hand on top of it.

Aramis slowly placed his hand on the back of Athos' neck and drew him closer. He made sure to make all his movements obvious and slow so Athos had plenty of space to stop him.

Aramis leaned forwards to close the gap and brushed his lips gently across Athos'. Athos gasped in surprise, despite seeing it coming. Aramis drew back a little and searched Athos' face.

“Athos?” he whispered gently.

Athos was unable to answer.

“Just show us if you can't speak,” he said, continuing to whisper.

Athos bit his lip and suddenly leaned forwards and pressed his lips clumsily against Aramis'.

Aramis held his neck gently and slowly started to kiss Athos. He felt Athos shiver and hesitantly kiss him back. All of a sudden he felt Athos shudder and relax, practically turning to liquid in his grasp. Aramis kissed him lightly and drew back, smiling. Athos had a drowsy smile on his face.

Aramis gently used his hand on Athos' neck to guide him until he was laying back down.

“Porthos,” Aramis murmured. Porthos tore his gaze from Athos and looked pleadingly at him. Aramis ran his hand up and down Athos' arm.

“Athos?” Aramis asked softly.

Athos glanced up at him, still smiling drowsily and quickly looked back at Porthos.

Aramis nodded at Porthos.

Porthos smiled at him and turned his head back to Athos. He stretched his neck forwards and repeated Aramis' light movement, just brushing across Athos' lips. Athos sighed softly and followed him when he pulled away. Porthos smiled against his lips and kissed him gently. Athos grew bolder and untucked his hand from under Porthos' and ran up to stroke Porthos' chest.

Porthos rumbled deep in his chest. Aramis smiled and watched them. He watched Athos growing more confident and withdrew his hand from Athos' arm.

Athos broke his kiss with Porthos and looked at Aramis quizzically. Aramis chuckled slightly.

“Porthos isn't ready for anything more strenuous than this,” he said gently. Athos blushed. “This is good, my friend,” he added.

Athos smiled and looked back at Porthos. Porthos was looking at Aramis for direction. Aramis saw a question in his eyes and felt the uncertainty returning but didn't let it show.

“Do you need to sleep, my beautiful boy?” he asked softly. Porthos glanced at Athos guiltily before looking back at Aramis and nodding reluctantly.

Athos stroked Porthos' chest gently and dropped his head onto Porthos' shoulder. He took Porthos' hand in both of his and held it at his stomach.

“Are you going to be OK on your back?” Aramis asked. Porthos considered for a moment and nodded. “You'll wake me if it hurts,” Aramis added.

Aramis stretched out on his side but Porthos nudged him. Aramis raised an eyebrow. Porthos lifted his arm and Aramis smiled. Aramis moved in closer and lay his head on Porthos' chest, smiling as Porthos pulled him tight.

Athos was watching this exchange and smiled as Aramis' face settled opposite his own. Feeling bolder he leaned forwards and kissed Aramis quickly before closing his eyes and snuggling against Porthos. Aramis reached up and stroked Athos' hair before settling it on his hip again.

 


	9. A heart to heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos asks Porthos some questions

Porthos was woken by a severe throbbing in his side. He took several deep breaths before assessing where he was. Athos hadn't moved a muscle and was still holding his hand tightly. Aramis had moved onto his stomach and was sprawled messily. One of his arms was beside him and the other had obviously slipped off Athos' hip and was currently on Porthos' thigh. His face was in the middle of Porthos' torso, his hair spread out, hiding his face from view.

Porthos lifted his free arm off Aramis' back and swept his hair back. Aramis murmured.

“Master. My side is hurting,” he said quietly. Aramis lifted his head and surveyed his two companions. He glanced at the window and dawn was just beginning to break.

“Do you need to move?” he asked groggily.

“Yes please Master,” he grunted, biting his lip. Aramis nodded and placed his finger gently over Porthos' lips.

“I'll take care of it,” Aramis said softly.

Porthos sighed and relaxed against the bed, grateful. He watched Aramis heave himself off the bed. He'd fought Aramis about sinking into his control but he was truly appreciating it. He hadn't really come to terms with how close he'd come to dying.

Porthos let himself sink back into the warm blanket of Aramis' strict restrictions and watched him gently waking Athos. It wasn't often that Aramis took this much control away from him because it affected them so very much but Porthos understood. He'd heard him explaining to Athos. Aramis was using this to cling to him, make sure he was still with him. Porthos was happy to oblige. It did the same for him.

Athos woke with a start and glanced around wildly.

“Athos, hi,” said Aramis. “Would you mind moving slightly so Porthos can get off his side?”

Athos looked up and down Porthos' side and saw their clasped hands. Porthos squeezed gently and smiled apologetically. Athos quickly made to stand up.

“You don't need to get up, my friend. Just help Porthos onto his side,” explained Aramis.

“No, no. I see dawn has broken. I'd like to get back on the road. I think we can probably make Paris within three days. Two if we don't stop much,” he said, drawing himself to his feet.

Aramis studied his face carefully. Athos smiled at him.

“I am not running from the pair of you. You two have melted something cold and awful. If it's amenable to you, I would like to investigate further another day,” Athos said calmly, unable to hide the blush that crept up his neck.

Aramis beamed at him and nodded. Athos pulled his boots on and picked up his doublet while Aramis gently rolled Porthos onto his side.

Side by side the two of them worked through their daily stretches. Athos smiled, seeing Porthos' naked admiration of Aramis' movements. Athos finished dressing quickly and took his sword belt with him as he slipped quietly out the room with a last smile at the pair.

Aramis sat back down on the bed and pulled Porthos' shirt up to have a look. Porthos nuzzled into his leg while Aramis examined him.

“I'm finding it difficult to rein Athos in. He wants to get home to Paris as soon as possible and so do I. I ache to curl up with you in our own bed. It's been nearly a year since we've been home. I long to be able to enjoy you without having to rush, to hide, to listen for boots,” Aramis crooned softly, examining the wound. The bruising around it was slightly more pronounced.

“I do have to calm him down, though. I don't like this speedy travelling. I'm not sure you're getting better from it.”

Aramis kicked himself for letting him lay on the wound site. He should have kept it elevated. He looked down with a smile. Porthos was still nuzzling him.

“I love you, too,” Aramis said, stroking his hair.

Athos reappeared at the door.

“I'm going to go and refresh our food supplies. I'll be back in about an hour,” he said softly. Aramis nodded at him. “I won't be back before then,” he added and left.

Aramis blinked and felt Porthos chuckling at his thigh.

“That was odd,” said Aramis.

Porthos' nuzzling grew more insistent.

“Ohh,” breathed Aramis, lacing his fingers in Porthos' hair gently.

Porthos hummed and pulled against Aramis' hand, delighting in feeling his hand tighten in his dark curls.

“Ahh... My Porthos is feeling better, then?” Aramis said, his voice dropping.

  
  


By the time Athos had returned, Aramis was fully dressed apart from his hat and gloves and was sat stroking Porthos' hair quietly. Porthos had his eyes closed.

“Sleeping?” asked Athos in a whisper, nodding at Porthos.

“No. Just resting,” Aramis replied and nudged Porthos gently. Porthos flickered his eyes open and smiled up at Aramis.

Together, they got him onto the wagon and rode out.

The next day passed without further incident. Aramis and Athos continued to ride up front, leaving Porthos silent and safely ensconced in the cart.

They camped again that night and Athos politely refused their company, choosing instead to sleep by himself. When questioned he simply explained the brief moments of physical contact the previous night had been enough for now.

“Are you sure, my friend?” Aramis asked, settling Porthos onto his side.

“I am. It was enough to feel cared for,” he replied graciously. “For now,” he added, a slight smirk to his lips. Aramis laughed lightly.

He lay down beside Porthos and felt Porthos' arm snake around his waist. This was always his exception to the no moving rule. He nuzzled back against Porthos and smiled at Athos across the tent.

“It's nice that we can be ourselves with you, brother,” Aramis said softly.

Athos inclined his head. Porthos had already begun drifting off when Athos spoke again.

“Thank you for your other offer, Aramis,” he said quietly.

Aramis opened his eyes and smiled kindly at him. He nodded and pulled Porthos' arm tighter around him.

  
  


Porthos woke the next morning to the noise of Athos re-entering the tent. Aramis was still sleeping solidly in his arms but Athos was fully dressed.

“Good morning,” he said softly.

Porthos smiled sleepily.

“May I ask you some questions, my friend, while it's just the two of us?” Athos asked, sitting down.

Porthos shook his head and nuzzled his face into the back of Aramis' neck.

“Oh don't wake him,” Athos said holding his hand up gently. “I wanted your opinion on something.”

Porthos frowned in confusion at Athos and looked meaningfully at Aramis' silent form in his arms.

“You can't speak? You mean you obey him even when he's not with you?” Athos asked in wonder.

Porthos frowned again and shrugged.

“Why wouldn't he?” asked Aramis drowsily, without opening his eyes.

“I apologise, brothers. I don't mean to insult you. I am just unfamiliar with such devotion. I am still coming to terms with the nature of your relationship and perhaps I misunderstood,” Athos said formally.

Aramis shrugged and shifted in Porthos' arm, stretching slightly. He turned over and burrowed into Porthos' chest for a minute. He leaned back and searched Porthos' face.

“How are you feeling, my love?” he asked tenderly.

“So much better, Sire. It still hurts when I move but the constant throbbing has nearly gone,” he answered.

“You're back with us?” Aramis asked.

“If you wish,” he answered, smiling.

“I think it's served its purpose. I still don't want you changing position without one of us present just in case but consider yourself on a longer rein again,” Aramis said, grinning.

“Yes, Sire. Thank you,” Porthos said nodding.

They exchanged a lingering kiss before Aramis sat up and checked Porthos' side. Satisfied, he pulled himself to his feet and disappeared out the tent.

“I didn't mean for him to leave,” Athos said, frowning.

“He will have woken when I did and heard you say you wanted my opinion on something. It's his way of giving you space to talk to me without him present,” Porthos explained. He sat up carefully and touched his waist gingerly.

“OK?” asked Athos, watching him.

“Yeah,” he replied. “You know I answer any questions Aramis poses me. If he asks what we've discussed, I will tell him.”

“I understand. I just wanted your input on something that's troubling me,” Athos said softly.

“What would you like to talk about?” asked Porthos with a smile.

Athos hesitated.

“You serve Aramis,” he said softly, a slight question in his voice.

“I do. In everything,” Porthos answered curiously.

“You enjoy receiving pain?”

“I do,” Porthos confirmed.

“Does Aramis enjoy inflicting it?” Athos asked shyly, twisting his hands in his lap.

Porthos thought carefully how to reply.

“I'm... Hmm. You have to accept that there is a part of him that is absolutely deadly. You've seen him, Athos. That look in his face when he gives a warning before shooting?”

Athos nodded, knowing what Porthos meant. Aramis was always quick with a joke, easy to talk to, comfortable around all manner of people and yet whenever he was preparing to kill someone, the temperature around him seemed to drop. Athos had noticed it about him before and admired how steady he was.

“I do,” Athos said in confusion. Porthos saw his concerns.

“That level of self control is not a common gift, Athos. I don't have it. The heat of battle gets to me more than most. Even you are not as steady and controlled as he when shooting someone like that,” Porthos said, studying Athos' face.

“I know that,” he replied quietly.

“When he is choosing to inflict pain on someone, he has every single part of that self control,” Porthos said softly.

“I understand he isn't dangerous,” Athos said, suddenly understanding what Porthos thought.

“Then I don't get what you're asking,” Porthos replied.

“He made me an offer,” Athos said carefully, not certain how Porthos would take it.

“I heard,” said Porthos, smiling.

“I know that you enjoy the pain,” he said carefully. “Aramis does that for you?”

“Ohh,” said Porthos suddenly. “You're concerned that Aramis is only offering that as a favour to you? That he wouldn't get anything from it?”

Athos looked down shyly.

“I know that he is remarkably generous but-”

Porthos snorted, cutting Athos off.

“Yes... Yes he is. When he's hurting me he is, indeed, remarkably generous,” Porthos said, still chuckling.

Athos shivered slightly.

“So he would get something from such an encounter?” Athos asked, shyly.

“He would. He would make sure you did as well,” Porthos said gently.

“Would you mind?” Athos asked, the blush creeping up his neck.

“Of course not, brother,” Porthos replied. “You heard Aramis. He will always come back to me. I never mind him sharing himself with others.”

“Oh. I... Never mind,” Athos said. He began twisting his hands nervously again.

“Athos?” Porthos said uncertainly, watching his face grow more guarded. “Have I misunderstood your question?”

Athos nodded.

“Then what is it you're asking?” Porthos said, confused.

“Would **you** mind?” Athos repeated.

Porthos frowned, watching Athos grow increasingly frustrated.

“Would I mind... assisting him?” Porthos asked tentatively.

Athos nodded without looking up.

“That's not a question I can answer,” Porthos replied. He made sure to keep his voice gentle.

Athos stiffened and nodded to himself.

“Hey, hey,” Porthos said. He wanted to reach out to Athos but they were too far apart. “I don't mean no, Athos. I don't.”

Athos glanced up at him for a split second and looked back down.

“It's not a question I can answer without Aramis,” Porthos explained.

“Oh,” Athos said softly. “What do you think he would say?”

“He can speak for me, Athos. I can't speak for him.”

Athos sighed deeply and nodded to himself.

“I apologise,” he said quietly.

“Let's go and find him and ask!” said Porthos eagerly.

Athos' eyes went wide as saucers. Porthos carefully moved onto his hands and knees and crawled to the tent entrance. Athos was panicked and found himself leaping after Porthos. He fluttered his hands uselessly on Porthos' hips, trying to get him to stop without hurting him.

“Sire?” Porthos called, sticking his head out the tent.

Aramis appeared from behind the wagon suddenly, confused and concerned. His expression quickly changed to one of bemusement when he realised Porthos had crawled his way out the tent and Athos appeared to be chasing him awkwardly on his knees. He strode over to them quickly.

Porthos stopped when Aramis started coming over and Athos froze. Aramis stood looking down at the pair with his hands on his hips.

“Now then. What **are** you two kids up to?” he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

Even Athos chuckled at the vision the two of them must present.

“Athos would like to ask you a question, Sire,” Porthos said, grinning.

He pulled himself up to his knees and rubbed against Aramis' hips like a cat. Aramis wound his hand into Porthos' hair and tugged him close.

Athos suddenly felt vulnerable. He felt as if he was looking at some lethal crime boss with a terrifying guard dog at his feet.

“What did you want to ask so urgently that caused the pair of you to come scrambling looking for me?” asked Aramis, stifling a laugh.

Athos relaxed and laughed.

“I asked Porthos if he would offer the same as you did and he said he couldn't answer without you,” Athos said, looking up at Aramis.

“He's such a good boy,” Aramis purred, tilting Porthos' head up. “Yes, is the answer,” he said, looking back at Athos. Aramis noted he'd remained on his knees waiting for his answer.

Porthos grinned up at Aramis and turned his grin on Athos when Aramis let go of his hair. Athos smiled back.

“Now, my lovely boys. Shall we?” asked Aramis, clapping his hands once.

Athos went pale for a second and then stood gracefully. He smiled at them both, suddenly shy and turned away to start packing up.

Aramis leaned down and kissed Porthos lightly.

“You are a terror, my boy,” Aramis said, laughing.

 

 


	10. Making offers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos loses confidence

They didn't travel as far as Athos wanted that day because Porthos insisted on being allowed to sit up front for some of the journey and also took assisted walks at each changeover.

Aramis supervised these walks closely but Athos actually did the supporting. It seemed to ease some of Athos' hesitancies at touching them that had re-surfaced since Aramis had made his offer. It also made him less upset that they were travelling slower if he was able to see how much strength Porthos had lost.

They stayed at an inn in Artenay that night. Athos was happier about their lack of distance now they were so close to Paris. These were roads they all knew. Athos estimated they were about 60 miles from Paris and since the roads here were such good quality and their horses were all still remarkably fit, he was aiming to split it evenly over two days giving them a night's stay in Étampes.

They had a much more comfortable room at this inn. There was a very large bed, two armchairs, a two seater padded bench and a small dining table with four chairs.

Athos helped Porthos to the two seater bench, Athos took one of the armchairs and Aramis left their room in search of supper. Porthos turned to Athos.

“You know he doesn't expect you to submit to him like I do?” he asked suddenly.

Athos blinked in surprise.

“I trust him,” Athos said slowly.

“That's good but it's not necessary if you don't feel that way inclined towards him,” Porthos said with a smile.

“It seems to come naturally to him,” Athos said in confusion.

Porthos laughed.

“With me, yes. It's not necessary, though. He won't ever demand it and he'll always be willing to spend time with you, even if you don't wish to give it,” Porthos insisted.

“He hinted that he surrenders to you,” Athos said quietly.

“He does on occasion. Only to me, though. He's not likely to share that part of him with anyone else,” Porthos said gently.

Athos nodded, not at all offended. He completely understood.

“What about you?” Athos asked shyly. Porthos blinked in surprise.

“Would I surrender to anyone but him?”

“No, no. Well maybe. No. Would he... I think it's a question for him,” Athos said, feeling nervous. He saw Porthos frown in confusion but was feeling more comfortable with the two of them and the way their relationship worked.

“What's the question?” asked Porthos, frowning curiously.

“It's a question I need to ask your owner, not you,” Athos said, standing up and clapping Porthos on the shoulder.

Porthos sat, stunned, as Athos lit the fire and felt himself feeling remarkably nervous again. He was supremely comfortable with Aramis having complete control over him and he was growing more confident at letting Athos see Aramis' control. This hinted at something else.

It was one thing for Porthos to tell Athos to ask Aramis something but it was quite another to be completely cut out of whatever enquiry it was.

Aramis returned with the maid. As she laid out the stew she was carrying on the small dining table in their room, Aramis frowned. There was tension in the room.

He laid out the glasses he'd brought up with her and frowned again seeing nerves in Porthos' face. That wasn't normal. Thanking the maid, he closed the door firmly behind him and looked between the two of them.

“What?” he said bluntly, growing suspicious that Porthos was still nervous, even though he was back.

“I had another question for you, Aramis,” said Athos, calmly.

Aramis' frown grew more pronounced as colour rose to Porthos' cheeks.

“Porthos?” he asked, ignoring Athos for the moment.

“I don't know, Sire. We were talking about how you wouldn't require submission from him in order to provide comfort or relief. Then I said I didn't think you would ever surrender to anyone but me and then... Then he said he had a question for you, Sire,” Porthos said.

Athos was slightly dismayed to hear the plaintive note in Porthos' voice. He'd intended it to be slightly amusing he was going over Porthos' head, not upsetting. He saw Aramis' face growing less and less friendly. He'd crossed his arms over his chest expectantly.

“Your question, Athos?” he asked, his voice flat.

“I was still curious about some of the elements of your relationship. I wondered if his submission was, like yours, exclusive to your relationship. Then I considered it was a decision Porthos can't actually make. So I've waited to ask you instead,” Athos said, purposefully not directing his speech at Porthos.

Aramis thought furiously for a minute. He saw mischief in Athos' eyes and suddenly understood why Athos had started taking more of a role in Porthos' care. He looked at Porthos and saw his jaw had dropped open. That was interesting. Apparently the thought that Aramis had the authority to insist he submitted to others hadn't crossed his mind. It hadn't really crossed Aramis' either. He'd need to think about that one but the indignant look taking shape on Porthos' face annoyed him.

Athos was right. That wasn't a question Porthos could answer. It was for him to decide. He wanted to comfort Porthos but he needed to make it clear that Athos was right to ask him, not Porthos.

However, he didn't want to crush whatever confidence Athos had found in beginning to speak more plainly about what he might want to try.

“It hasn't come up before. You were right to ask me, not Porthos. I will think about it and give you an answer by the time we reach Paris. Is that amenable, my friend?” said Aramis, moving his gaze away from Porthos.

“Very amenable. I appreciate your consideration. At this point it's just curiosity,” Athos said quietly.

“I understand. It's something I'll need to put thought into. Let's have supper,” Aramis said, unfolding his arms.

He poured some wine at the table and looked at the two of them.

“Joining us, my boy?” he asked, looking over at Porthos whose jaw was still hanging open. There was definite colour to his cheeks still.

Porthos closed his mouth and nodded. He began to try and stand up and froze as Athos stepped close to him and placed his arm around Porthos' waist.

Aramis watched them carefully as Athos helped Porthos over to the table. Porthos was suddenly stiff and silent and when he sat at the table, he hissed in pain. Aramis recognised the tension and he knew it must be making his side hurt again.

After a minute Aramis noticed Porthos wasn't actually eating and was just playing with his food.

“Eat please, my love,” he said quietly.

Porthos' head snapped up and look of mutiny flashed across his face. Athos noticed it as well and looked at Aramis. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as Porthos' jaw clenched.

The two of them stared at each other for several long seconds and Athos tried to make himself invisible. Aramis cocked an eyebrow at Porthos, who glared back at him. After another few seconds Porthos began to eat his stew.

When they'd all finished Aramis leant back in his chair, his long legs stretching in front of him.

“Athos, my friend,” he said politely. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Athos nodded eagerly.

“I'll go and check on the horses,” he said quietly. Athos slipped from the room without another word, practically fleeing.

As the door shut behind Athos, Porthos found himself unable to meet Aramis' eyes.

“Well?” Aramis said expectantly.

“I'm sorry, Master. That was rude of me. I shouldn't have reacted like that,” Porthos said sincerely.

“Thank you for saying that,” Aramis replied, relaxing immediately. It always reassured him when Porthos apologised straight away. “Can you tell me what upset you?”

“Athos talking as if he had the right to... As if he could...”

Aramis held up a hand.

“He didn't, Porthos. He asked whether you would ever submit to anyone but me. He asked, Porthos,” Aramis said sharply.

Porthos frowned.

“He didn't ask me,” he whispered.

“He didn't need to,” Aramis answered bluntly.

There was a tense moment of silence and Aramis watched Porthos growing increasingly restless.

“What are you thinking?” Aramis asked, unable to read him for once.

Porthos was quiet for another minute, thinking furiously. He seemed unable to form words. Aramis took pity on him and rose from the table. He walked to Porthos and took him by the hand.

Aramis led Porthos over to the hearth and sat himself down.

“Sit down,” he said gently, holding his hand out. Porthos took his hand and carefully lowered himself to the floor. He shuffled closer to Aramis and Aramis gently guided his head into his lap. Aramis stroked his hair for a minute.

“Porthos?” he said softly.

Porthos took a deep breath and lifted his head.

“It upset me that I was entirely cut out of the decision making process,” he said.

“You were perfectly willing this morning to refer him to me when he asked if you would be willing or allowed to assist me,” Aramis said carefully.

“Right. But that...” Porthos trailed off and frowned.

“That was to put you in a position of power and this question implies something quite different,” Aramis surmised.

“You'd just hand me out?” Porthos blurted suddenly.

Aramis gasped.

“No! Of course not!” Aramis said, his hands clenching.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two and neither of them really knew what to do. Aramis took a deep breath.

“Porthos. I love you so much. I would never ever see you harmed,” Aramis said, forcing his voice to stay calm. He stroked Porthos' face and smiled as he leaned into it.

“It is my decision, though,” he said gently. Porthos opened his mouth and Aramis held his hand up.

“You do not belong to anyone else. You won't ever. You will always be mine and nobody else's. You have to understand, however, that you are expected to obey me at all times. In the event that Athos does join us this way, your obedience to me will not waver, will it?” Aramis said quietly.

Porthos shook his head and laid his head back in Aramis' lap.

“If Athos chooses to join us we will bend to what he needs. You know as well as I do that no matter what you do, you will always be mine. That knowledge never ever leaves either of us, no matter how hard you try,” he teased, his voice lightening.

Porthos chuckled.

“You're willing to show him how much you obey me. He's seen me mute you, feed you, stop you moving. He's watched you kneel for me and his only reaction was to seek further closeness,” Aramis continued.

Porthos sighed.

“Submitting to you is instant, Master. It's like my heart beating. I don't even think about it. But the idea of... someone else being able to order me around...” Porthos trailed off again, not lifting his head from Aramis' lap.

“If it should ever happen, it's at my direction. I would never leave you alone and I would never ever let you forget you're mine,” Aramis said quietly.

Porthos sighed again and nodded in Aramis' lap.

“Next time you're taken off guard by something I expect you to deal with it much better. You're to talk to me about it, OK?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good boy,” Aramis said, smiling.

“I guess I just didn't expect it from him,” Porthos said thoughtfully, sitting up straighter. “Everything we've discussed so far with him has implied him to be on the receiving end.”

“I suppose it might explain why he withdrew his hand so quickly that day at Châtellerault. Ah!” Aramis exclaimed suddenly.

“Sire?”

“I remember something! Remember at Beaugency? When I'd sat you in the chair by the fire and Athos put you to bed? He asked me if he could do that.”

“I remember that day. He was really hesitant,” said Porthos frowning.

“I wonder if that was him... experimenting. Is that the right word?”

“You mean he saw you controlling me to such an extent and thought he might enjoy being authoritative?”

“Maybe” Aramis said. He was quiet for a minute. “What do you think?”

“I'm... not convinced I would be able to handle it with grace,” Porthos answered slowly.

“Oh, no. I meant do you think we're on the right path here or are we reading too much into it? Maybe he just wanted to help,” Aramis said.

“And he chose the moment I was so passive to step in?” Porthos asked sceptically.

“Hmm. Good point. He definitely asked to move you. It was certainly a request, not an offer,” mused Aramis.

“Sounds like we're preparing for another touchy conversation,” Porthos said, leaning his chin on Aramis' knee.

Aramis was quiet for a few minutes and resumed stroking Porthos' hair.

“Would it be easier for you if you weren't there for the parts that concerned you? Or at least if you weren't expected to speak?” he asked finally.

“You wouldn't think me a coward?” Porthos asked, his eyes filled with trepidation.

“Not at all, my boy. I would think you honest. There's a reason I take your choices away when you're upset. If a particular choice is upsetting you, I will willingly take that from you as well,” Aramis said kindly.

“Thank you, Sire,” Porthos said in a rush.

“I will always take what you want into account, Porthos, but the decisions are mine,” Aramis said, ruffling his hair again. “Will you be OK on your own for a few minutes while I look for Athos? I don't want him thinking I'm shouting at you like the Captain does!”

Porthos laughed.

“He doesn't scare me half as much as you do!”

  
  


Athos was on his third cup of wine when he spotted Aramis entering alone. He saw the deep frown on Aramis' face and stood quickly.

Aramis saw Athos stand and strode over quickly.

“What's wrong?” Athos asked urgently. “What happened? Is he OK?”

“Peace, Athos! My goodness! You do jump to the worst case scenario,” said Aramis, beginning to chuckle.

“You looked upset,” said Athos by way of explanation.

“I **looked** in the stables,” Aramis teased.

Athos chuckled.

“They were fine so I settled in here to wait,” Aramis explained. “I was-”

“Giving us space, I know. When you weren't there, I was just slightly concerned you had sought distance from us. You do understand why I had to be stern with him?”

“I think so. I am saddened that I caused a disturbance between you, though,” Athos said sincerely.

“It's not a problem. It's all resolved. Will you come upstairs so we can talk about it?”

“I understand, Aramis. I know the value of training,” Athos said, inclining his head.

“I mean so that we can talk about your question so I might make a decision,” Aramis explained.

Athos nodded silently and drained his cup. Following Aramis, he entered their room to find Porthos sat on the floor, his back against the centre of the solid bench.

Aramis had propped him up with pillows and wrapped what Athos recognised at Aramis' own cloak around Porthos' shoulders. Athos noticed after a second glance that Porthos wasn't wearing a shirt and his side was freshly bandaged. He was also barefoot

Athos and Aramis quietly removed their weapons and doublets. Athos was confused to see Porthos looking so distinctly nervous. He gently reached out and touched Aramis' arm.

“He won't be uncomfortable?”

“He will but he's asked that he be excused from the conversation.”

“I only meant-”

Aramis held his hand up.

“Let's sit down,” he said quietly.

They took seats either side of Porthos, who leaned against Aramis' legs. Aramis gently pushed Porthos off his legs and removed his long boots.

“Would you explain how you came to ask such a question?” Aramis asked quietly, settling Porthos back against his legs.

“Porthos was reassuring me that should I ever choose to take you up on your offer, or offers rather, you would not expect me to surrender to you,” Athos said softly, unable to take his eyes off Porthos who was nuzzling into Aramis' cloak.

“He's correct,” confirmed Aramis, inviting Athos to continue.

“I explained I had assumed it was your natural orientation,” Athos said. He looked up at Aramis for a moment, who was smiling. “We briefly discussed that while you do enjoy giving up control, he didn't think you were likely to share that part of yourself with anyone but him.”

Aramis nodded.

“I think that's true. You understand that's not a criticism of anyone else? It's just something I share only with him,” Aramis said quietly.

“Oh I do. I take no offence, Aramis. It was curiosity,” Athos said calmly.

“Indeed. Then I gather the question moved from whether I would share that part of myself to whether I would share that part of Porthos?” Aramis asked.

They both looked down at Porthos who had jerked suddenly at Aramis' words. Porthos inhaled deeply in Aramis' cloak and Athos understood why it was Aramis' cloak, not Porthos' own.

“Again, just curiosity. I assure you,” Athos said calmly.

“I would like to know what kind of curiosity,” Aramis said.

“The idea of inflicting pain doesn't interest me, if that's your concern,” Athos replied.

Aramis nodded and waited patiently for Athos to gather his thoughts.

“The fierceness with which you care for him intrigues me. It resonates within me to be able to protect someone like that. I...” he trailed off again.

After a few minutes Aramis decided to step in.

“Things will always happen to him that are outside my control. When things like that happen, I take comfort from pulling him closer and controlling what I can. While that is not the reason for our relationship being this way, it is one of the things I gain from it,” he said softly.

Athos peered sideways at him.

“That makes a great deal of sense. I can feel that connecting. I certainly desired that feeling of being responsible for his welfare so I was certain he was OK,” he said slowly.

“Is that all there is to it?” Aramis asked quietly. “It seems to me there was something else in your expression when I came in.”

“I would rather not go into it,” Athos said quietly, the flush reappearing on his neck.

“Please respect us enough to talk to us,” Aramis said bluntly.

Athos sighed and took a deep breath.

“The idea of having someone give themselves to me in an intimate manner and that being the nature of our relations interested me,” he admitted in a whisper.

Aramis nodded and thought carefully. He could feel Porthos tensing up against his legs.

“You were curious about my offer that we would meet whatever desires or needs you had? And I suppose you wondered if it was within the realm of possibility to make use of Porthos' capacity for surrender?”

Athos felt breathless all of a sudden.

“Yes,” he said, not trusting his voice to go any further.

Porthos' mind was spinning. He was inhaling Aramis' scent desperately, using it to keep calm. His fingers were pressed against the thin strip of leather Aramis placed on his leg all those years ago.

The fact that the two of them were talking about him as if he wasn't there was extremely unnerving and he found himself not entirely disliking it. He was feeling quite breathless and the fact that Aramis had removed his shirt when he tended to his waist wasn't helping. He'd expected Aramis to replace it but instead just wrapped him in his cloak. Porthos inhaled Aramis' scent deeply again, grateful for it.

“I won't ever give him to someone else,” Aramis said finally. “I won't rule out allowing someone else to be close to him in a similar way but he will never be anybody else's.”

“That's your decision, Aramis?” Athos asked quietly.

“That's my decision. I told you that he and I would do whatever we could to help you. Be that physical closeness, affection, pain or whatever else you find yourself in need of. That offer hasn't changed,” Aramis stated.

“What about...” Athos trailed off. He glanced down at Porthos who had his eyes screwed shut.

“Porthos will not mind. He wants to be there for you as much as I do, Athos. He might find it difficult but I imagine it would be unfamiliar to you, as well,” he replied kindly. “Not to mention how strange it would be to see someone else manipulating my boy,” he added with a grin.

Athos chuckled.

“If we're going to make 30 miles tomorrow we're going to need to leave by eight, gentlemen,” Athos said, stretching his legs out in front of him.

Porthos heaved a sigh of relief, hearing the change in their tones. His calm was suddenly broken when Aramis stretched his legs out as well. Framed by two sets of legs made him feel suddenly enclosed and he was uncertain about what to do next.

Aramis drew himself to his full height and stretched. Athos glanced up from removing his boots and could see why Porthos admired him so much. Aramis had a flexibility in his slim form that many people worked daily to achieve. Even doing the same set of exercises every day, Athos and Porthos couldn't match him

Aramis caught Athos watching him from the bench and couldn't help him cocking an eyebrow at him. He'd always loved admiration. Athos smirked slightly and dropped his eyes.

Aramis held his hand out to Porthos. Porthos struggled to his feet and breathed hard at the movement.

“OK?” Athos asked, quietly.

Porthos turned his head and looked at Athos. He turned his head back to Aramis who just raised an eyebrow. He turned back to Athos again.

“Still hurts when I move but stops after a minute,” he answered in a small voice.

“May I see it?” Athos asked calmly.

Porthos flicked his head back to Aramis again. Aramis nodded. Porthos reluctantly let go of Aramis' hand and pulled the cloak round to expose his side.

Athos looked up at Aramis and watched him smile as Porthos moved the cloak out the way. He decided to take a risk and gently touched the skin above the line of cloth Aramis had wrapped around his waist. He felt Porthos jump slightly.

“Still a lot of bruising,” he commented.

“It's going down. The wound itself is just about closed now. The bandage is just for protection now,” Aramis said, not giving Porthos a chance to reply.

“Is he able to sleep on his back yet?”

“He can lay on it. I wouldn't like him to sleep on it all night, though. The bruising is still quite extensive,” Aramis replied. He watched curiously as colour rose to Porthos' cheeks with them talking about him, not to him.

“Maybe you would like to sleep in the centre tonight?” Athos asked quietly.

Porthos straightened and turned to look at Athos. Aramis laid his hand on Porthos' shoulder and squeezed gently. Porthos looked back and frowned at him.

Aramis understood Porthos' frown but he considered his options. If Athos slept in the centre, Aramis wouldn't find it as easy to read Porthos. After such a tense couple of conversations, he wanted to be able to read him instantly. If Porthos slept in the centre, he'd have to either lie on his back or be held from behind. With the implication that Athos might be allowed to control him, he wasn't sure Porthos would rest that well. He knew what Porthos was thinking. Aramis didn't sleep well if he was penned in. Porthos' arms were the only exception.

“Perhaps that would be nice,” Aramis said, smiling. Porthos' frown deepened and he opened his mouth to say something. “Let's go to bed,” Aramis said pointedly.

Porthos closed his mouth but continued to frown. Aramis squeezed his shoulder again.

“Noted, my love,” Aramis whispered, recognising disapproval in his eyes.

Porthos lay down first, still moving slowly but able to take the few steps to the bed unaided. Aramis curled up next to him, nestling into his arms as always. Athos lay beside Aramis, facing him.

Aramis smiled and reached for Athos. Athos smiled in return and turned over to nestle back against Aramis. He sighed softly as the combined arms of Aramis and Porthos wrapped around his stomach.

Athos fell asleep very quickly, his head dropping forwards. Porthos waited until Aramis had fallen asleep before he let himself begin to drift off.

 


	11. Waking up isn't always pleasant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aramis has his own difficult moment

Athos was woken by what felt like an iron bar being clamped around his stomach. He gasped and grabbed at it before realising it was his brother's arms. He tried to force himself to relax but gasped again as it became hard to breathe.

“Just hang on, Athos,” croaked Porthos, clearly only just awake.

Athos gritted his teeth.

“Sire. Shh. Come back to me. Sire, I'm here,” he heard Porthos resume muttering.

Athos grunted in pain as Aramis' arm tightened painfully around his middle. He felt Aramis shudder and emit an awful sound. It was somewhere between a sob and a whimper and it was utterly heart breaking.

Athos flew out of bed in seconds when Aramis suddenly let go of him and began pushing at his back frantically. He crouched by the side of bed in confusion. It was still dark and he frowned when Aramis leapt out of bed too.

Porthos groaned and heaved himself to his feet and approached Aramis. He hadn't been this bad for a long time. Porthos walked towards him warily, not entirely convinced he was awake.

“Sire?”

“Porthos?”

“Yes, it's me,” Porthos murmured.

Athos walked closer to Aramis' back and laid his hand on Aramis' shoulder to reassure him.

Aramis whirled round and socked Athos in the jaw.

Porthos leapt across the room to wrap his arms around Aramis. Aramis twisted hard in Porthos' arms and managed to get a hand on Porthos' wrist. He twisted himself out of Porthos' grasp and yanked his wrist up and behind Porthos' back, forcing him to one knee. Porthos bellowed in pain and he immediately let go.

“Porthos?” he asked again, confused.

“Sire,” Porthos said, gritting his teeth.

“What happened?” asked Aramis, uncertainly. His voice was still drowsy.

“Nothing, Sire. It's fine. Come back to bed,” Porthos said, pulling himself to his feet.

Porthos held his hand out to Aramis and walked back to the bed slowly. Aramis let himself be led drowsily. Passing Athos, Porthos held a finger to his lips. Athos nodded.

Porthos lay down in the middle of the bed and drew Aramis against his side. Aramis nuzzled his head onto Porthos' shoulder and sighed as Porthos' arm snaked over his back stroked him gently.

“Where's Athos?” he asked softly, lifting his head.

“He's here,” Porthos said, gesturing impatiently at Athos to lay down with them.

Athos uncertainly laid down beside Porthos. His jaw was throbbing where Aramis had punched him out of nowhere but here he was, now seeking him out.

Aramis reached his hand out for Athos. He felt hesitancy in the way Athos clasped hands with him.

“I apologise for startling you. I occasionally have disturbed sleep,” Aramis said quietly.

Athos frowned and glanced at Porthos who shook his head slightly. They both realised Aramis didn't remember hitting him.

“We can talk about it in the morning,” Athos said calmly.

Porthos draped his other arm over Athos' back and patted him gently. Aramis fell asleep almost immediately.

“Thank you for not saying anything, Athos,” said Porthos quietly.

“What happened?” Athos asked, exercising his jaw.

“He doesn't sleep penned in,” Porthos answered. “Do you remember why he and I had been away when we first met?”

“Savoy,” breathed Athos in understanding.

Porthos rubbed Athos' back in reply.

“He still struggles?”

“He does,” Porthos replied. “Did he hurt you?”

“I've had worse. Nothing's broken,” Athos answered. Porthos continued stroking his back.

“Don't let him feel too guilty, will you?” Porthos asked.

“Of course not,” Athos said, stretching and relaxing against Porthos. Porthos bent his arm up to stroke Athos' hair. He drew Athos' head onto his chest, so he mirrored Aramis. Athos couldn't help feeling a slight shiver running through him at being pressed against Porthos' bare chest.

“Did he hurt you?” Athos asked.

“A bit,” Porthos answered honestly.

Athos nodded quietly against Porthos' chest. Porthos stroked his hair once before settling his hand on his lower back.

  
  


Aramis woke with a pounding headache. His face was buried into Porthos' neck and he lifted his head sleepily. Porthos was already awake and very tense.

“My love?” Aramis asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“'ello Sire,” Porthos replied quietly.

“Hurting?”

“Yes, Sire,”

Aramis looked around the room and it was beginning to lighten. He remembered Athos saying they needed to be on the road early. He looked across Porthos to see Athos still sleeping solidly. He frowned to see a shadow on Athos' jaw, just visible under his beard.

He dropped his head back onto Porthos for a minute. He suddenly remembered hitting him and gasped in horror.

“Oh goodness!” he cried, sitting up suddenly.

The sudden movement woke Athos who looked around, startled. He instantly saw the dismay on Aramis' face.

“Hey, hey. We're fine. It's OK. Relax,” he said, calmly.

Athos slowly pulled himself to a sitting position. He rubbed his face sleepily and couldn't help the slight wince when his hand passed over his jaw. Aramis' eyes watched him carefully and Athos saw him wince in sympathy.

“I'm fine. Honestly, brother,” Athos confirmed.

Aramis stood quickly and turned his back on them both. Porthos gritted his teeth and held his hand out for Aramis but couldn't reach. Athos stood and walked round to Aramis, whose whole body stiffened.

“We're both fine. Porthos explained and I apologise for making you feel you couldn't counter my suggestion. I now remember him saying something similar a few nights ago and I should have recalled it,” Athos said soothingly. He placed his hand on Aramis' shoulder and frowned when he turned away.

Athos huffed slightly.

“I'm going to get dressed and see to the horses. I suggest you help Porthos up since he appears to be in a lot of pain,” Athos said curtly.

Aramis jumped slightly, remembering that he'd neglected Porthos. Athos turned from the bed and began to get dressed. As he sat down to pull his boots on, he saw Aramis and Porthos stood by the bed. Aramis was examining the shoulder he'd pulled on. Athos slipped quietly from the room.

  
  


When he returned, Athos could tell at a glance that Aramis was still brooding. He was fully dressed and was wrapping Porthos' cloak around him but he just looked flat. Porthos met Athos' eyes and smiled sadly at him.

“Aramis?” Athos asked softly.

“How can I help?” Aramis enquired, formally.

“I upset Porthos last night by accident and you told me not to be upset. When I hurt Porthos on the cart, you told me to move on from it. You apologised to me for asking me questions you didn't know would upset me and I told you to move on. You accidentally caused us pain last night. Move on from it, please,” Athos said quietly.

Aramis took a deep breath and nodded.

“I will be fine, brother. Just a shock to see bruises I didn't intend to put there on someone I care about,” he teased slightly.

Athos rolled his eyes slightly and smirked.

  
  


The three of them stopped for lunch in a clearing just outside Toury. They were all shattered. They'd gotten into Beaugency very late and had left so early that with the interrupted night's sleep, none of them were very chatty.

Aramis had begun helping Porthos do some of their daily stretches. They were good-naturedly arguing about which stretches Porthos could do without twisting or bending while Athos reviewed the maps.

He looked up at sudden burst of laughter from the pair to see Porthos had almost lost his balance and Aramis was braced under him, shaking slightly.

“Need a hand?” he called, smirking. He put the map to one side and rose gracefully. Aramis laughed and gradually straightened Porthos up. Porthos was breathing heavily and kept chuckling.

Aramis yawned and stretched. He wasn't surprised to see Porthos looking him up and down but was slightly surprised to see Athos looking at him. Athos quickly turned away when Aramis caught his eye.

Porthos rested his arm around Aramis' shoulders but was walking much quicker. Athos chuckled to himself when he heard them following him. He turned back and as they approached him, he looked them both up and down.

They were grinning widely with their arms around each other.

“You're idiots,” he said affectionately.

“What's the plan?” Porthos asked.

“The roads here aren't as good as I thought. I think we could have made better time had we taken the Western road and travelled via Chartres. How do you feel about adding a day to the journey? If we reach Angerville tonight and then perhaps Chastres the following day? That puts us in Paris late on Friday night. Would that be agreeable?”

They nodded in unison at him and he chuckled.

“I'd appreciate the extra day. I can spend a bit more time upright. I've been on my back long enough,” Porthos said, clapping Athos on the shoulder. “Besides, I haven't actually worn my doublet since the battlefield. I'd like to arrive in Paris at least dressed!”

Athos looked him up and down.

“I like you in a state of undress,” Aramis said softly, echoing Athos' own thoughts.

“You'll make Athos blush,” Porthos teased. The smile on his face quickly died seeing Athos looking him up and down as well.

“What?” he asked warily, looking between the two.

“I was just thinking how much I agree with Aramis. Last night I was sleeping on your bare chest and it was very enjoyable,” Athos said, smirking from under his hat brim.

“We've all seen each other shirtless or more around the wash bowl,” Porthos said, attempting to stand up away from Aramis.

Athos watched with amusement as Aramis refused to let go.

“Not everyone has had the joy of pressing themselves against your bare skin. Athos had that pleasure last night for the first time. I appears it's as difficult for him to forget as it is for me," Aramis said, grinning.

Porthos laughed finally and stopped resisting.

“Oh God! There's two of you!” he chuckled, sagging against Aramis.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Athos got his wish and they reached Angerville early evening. Aramis suggested they move on a little further but Athos was content to stop.

Porthos managed to walk up to their room without any help but was taking it slow. Athos stopped Aramis at the bottom of the stairs and spoke quietly to Aramis.

Their room was much smaller in this village. There was a simple wooden table with two chairs and one single bed. Porthos was leaning on the back of a chair when he heard their door close. Turning, he saw Aramis stood alone, smiling shyly at him.

 

“Athos?” Porthos asked, leaning on the back of a chair.

Aramis dropped their bags and smiled. He walked to him and wrapped his arms around Porthos, who reciprocated instantly, never able to resist the closeness of his owner.

“Athos is eating in the common room tonight. He'd like some space from us to think and thought you and I would appreciate some time together,” Aramis said quietly.

Porthos sat down and Aramis sat at the table opposite him. They clasped hands quietly and time stopped as they gazed at each other.

“I need to tell you something you might be upset by, Porthos,” Aramis said quietly.

“Sire?” Porthos asked warily.

“Do you remember I told you when we stayed at Châtellerault that you didn't recognise me? That I was close, I mean?” Aramis asked quietly.

Porthos nodded in confusion.

“I was very worried you were going to die,” Aramis said, looking down at their clasped hands.

“You told me, Sire,” Porthos said quietly, not understanding where he was going.

“I curled up against you while you were still sleeping. I didn't know, when I lay down, if you would ever wake,” Aramis said.

Porthos squeezed his hands urgently, seeing Aramis tearing up.

“I did, Sire. I'm here,” he murmured.

“If I had woken and you had... not,” Aramis whispered, his voice cracking. “I didn't intend to leave your side. I did not intend to live without you.”

Porthos gasped and the noise quickly turned into a growl.

“It's why I curled up with you. If you were to leave this world, you would leave it in my arms and I would be close behind you, in yours,” Aramis, his voice shaking with suppressed tears.

There was a heavy silence, broken by a knock on the door. The pair of them ignored it, simply losing themselves in each other's eyes. Neither of them moved until, several minutes later, there was another, softer knock at the door.

“Gentlemen?” came Athos' soft voice through the door.

Porthos reluctantly let go of Aramis' hand and walked slowly to the door. He opened it slightly.

Athos looked at his expression and thought he'd never seen such sadness on his bright face. He glanced over his shoulder to see Aramis looking glumly at the table.

“Are you all right? I sent some food up,” Athos began.

“We're both fine. Just... Reality of...” Porthos mumbled, struggling for words.

“Ah,” Athos said softly. “I understand. I shall be downstairs if you want me. If you would appreciate the night together, I will meet you at the stables at eight.”

“We will come looking for you, Athos,” Porthos said softly.

Athos nodded and departed.

Porthos shut the door behind him and leaned his head on it. He felt Aramis walking up behind him and turned around to lean against the door. Aramis' eyes were still full of tears and he could feel his own eyes matched them.

“Let me light us a fire, Sire,” Porthos said shakily.

“I'll do that, my darling,” Aramis said quietly, swallowing hard.

While Aramis lit the fire, Porthos pulled their cloaks out and laid them on the floor by the fire. He carefully laid down on his side and beckoned Aramis closer. They stretched out facing each other.

Several times they both began to speak and trailed off.

There was nothing either of them could say. They both knew Aramis was wrong for making such plans but Porthos couldn't honestly deny that he would have made such a decision after so long together.

Similarly, Aramis knew he couldn't defend such a decision as he would heart broken to think Porthos would do similar and yet he couldn't imagine the thought of living without him.

Aramis' tear filled eyes finally brimmed over and tears began to trickle from his eyes.

“Porthos,” he whispered.

Porthos learned forwards and kissed Aramis, cutting him off. Aramis flung himself at Porthos, rolling him suddenly onto his back and straddling him.

Porthos gasped in surprise and his hands flew up to Aramis' back and he rubbed his back restlessly.

“OK, lover?” Aramis breathed.

“Yes Master,” Porthos replied after shifting slightly.

Aramis descended on Porthos' mouth. He kissed him hard, both of his hands winding into his hair. Porthos groaned against Aramis' mouth and settled his hands on Aramis' backside. He kneaded Aramis gently, as his lover moaned softly against him.

Porthos matched Aramis' intense kiss. Their lips met again and again, desperately trying to communicate how much they loved each other. The reality of almost losing each other spilled over and their movements became more frantic as tears began to fall from both of their eyes as their kiss continued to grow more urgent.

The closeness began to get to each of them and Aramis began to unconsciously move against Porthos, who gripped Aramis' bottom firmly in response. Aramis moaned breathlessly and dipped his head to Porthos' neck, hearing his darker lover gasp as the intense kiss was suddenly broken.

Porthos' hands began to massage Aramis' buttocks insistently as Aramis began to nibble along the line of Porthos' throat. He ground his pelvis against Porthos' without conscious thought.

Porthos arched his hips up against Aramis and hissed in pain as it pulled on his sore waist. Aramis sat up suddenly, startled.

They exchanged a glance and burst out laughing. Aramis tried to climb off Porthos but found himself held fast.

“Help me sit up, Sire?” Porthos asked, grinning.

Aramis rocked back onto his heels, and pulled Porthos into a sitting position, watching him carefully as Porthos winced slightly.

“You believe after death you and I will spend time in purgatory, Sire?” Porthos asked, stroking Aramis' back gently.

“I do,” Aramis said curiously.

“Do you believe I could ever make my way out of it having been responsible for the death of the man I love?”

Aramis gasped again.

“Porthos!” he admonished. “Don't!”

“Do you?" Porthos insisted. "I've killed people. I've stolen from people. I've laid with a man. I don't have the same level of faith you do. If my last act on this Earth was to cause you, one of God's faithful, to take his own life and condemn himself to hell... Would I really be accepted into heaven? Would I ever even be able to enjoy eternity knowing the lasting legacy of my love for you was your death?”

Aramis' eyes had filled with tears again. It was unusual for Porthos to open up like this. Rare, but powerful. He always chose the right moment to be eloquent and Aramis always found it absolutely devastating.

Aramis dipped his head to kiss Porthos but he was held back slightly.

“Sire?” he asked softly.

“I understand, my love. We promise, here and now, should anything ever happen to separate us, we will always carry on. We will honour the other by living and living well. No recklessness, no despair,” Aramis said, searching Porthos' tear streaked face.

“Yes, Sire,” Porthos murmured. He reached up and wiped the tears from Aramis' face and felt Aramis do the same on his own.

They sat for several long minutes as they were. Feather light touches to each other's faces, brushes of lips across lips, murmurs of love in ears. It slowly dawned on Aramis that Porthos was trembling from the strain of sitting up and supporting Aramis so he gently laid Porthos back down.

Aramis burrowed under Porthos' arm and nuzzled into his chest quietly. Aramis dozed off in Porthos' arms and Porthos stroked his hair quietly. It was testament to how much Porthos had healed for Aramis to fall asleep with him.

Porthos had noticed Aramis taking most of the watches when they camped. He'd barely slept for the last week, choosing to let Athos rest. Porthos had not been happy about it but getting Athos to open up had been very important and Porthos knew he, himself, wouldn't be any use taking a watch yet.

He found his mind wandering to how close to home they were. It would only be another couple of days until they'd be home. In their own bed. Their own space.

Porthos smiled, thinking of all those rituals that they could put back into place. They'd talked about them for months while away. Taking Aramis' boots off for him. Stripping for him in their bedroom. Sitting at his feet in the evenings. Tidying up after him. Well... He did that all the time. Even camping. He chuckled to himself.

Aramis woke from his light doze feeling Porthos' chest rumbling in quiet laughter. He smiled feeling the warmth on his back from the fire and warmth from Porthos on his front.

“What's amused you, my love?”

Porthos smiled and raised his hand to stroke Aramis' dark waves.

“I was thinking how nice it will be to get home and enjoy our little rituals and rules again, Sire,” he murmured.

Aramis raised an eyebrow and lifted his head.

“And that was funny?” he asked, playfully suspicious.

“Well I was thinking one of those things I do at home is tidy up after you but we never really stopped that one, did we?” he replied, chuckling.

Aramis laughed good-naturedly.

“What's the point of having a servant if I'm not going to use it?” he teased.

“Can I ask you something?” Porthos asked, stroking his hair gently.

“Mmm?”

“Why do you let me call you Master and refuse to use the term slave?” he said curiously.

“Hmm. I suppose I consider that I'm your Master in the way that we've defined between ourselves but I hear the dreadful stories from slaves across the world and I can't associate that term with you,” he said with a smile.

“It's not because of my mother?” Porthos asked.

Aramis gave it some thought.

“Not specifically but I am conscious of what she, and so many souls, go through. The people who call themselves slave owners have no right to possess those people. It is without consent, respect or appreciation for them as humans. I, on the other hand, have all of those things,” Aramis answered, propping his chin on Porthos' chest.

Aramis frowned thoughtfully and Porthos ran his hand in lazy circles across Aramis' back.

“I think the term slave, to me, implies force,” he said finally.

“The term master?” asked Porthos.

“Just implies ownership. It's used by servants as well as slaves,” Aramis replied.

"Yet I'm sure you've noticed I tend to use the term more when I'm feeling particularly submissive or vulnerable," Porthos counter calmly.

“I think slave implies that you're being **kept** in my possession whereas I don't feel I use any manipulation to keep you under my control,”

Porthos snorted.

“I do?” Aramis asked in concern.

“That's what the rituals do, Sire. It's what the orders do. You don't let me get away with anything. You admonish me when I act outside how you like, you praise me when I do good. That manipulates me and makes me fall further and further into you,” Porthos said, grinning.

Aramis frowned.

“You could still leave if you wanted, though?” he asked.

“I'm less and less sure, Sire. I love you beyond belief and you're like air to me. I meant it when I said that obeying you is like my heart beating. Could I choose to stop my own heart?” Porthos said quietly.

“I don't know I feel about that,” Aramis said, uncomfortably.

“Could you?” Porthos asked softly.

“Hmm?”

“Could you leave me now we've gone so deep together?”

“Probably not, actually. I like to think I could withdraw some of my control if you wanted me to,” Aramis said frowning.

“I think that ending your mastery over me would end the relationship, Sire. It's how we love each other. To that end, I don't think I could leave, no,” he said, grinning.

“Would you like me to use the term slave?” Aramis asked after a few minutes.

“You call me whatever you see me as, Sire. I'll call you whatever you tell me to,” he said grinning.

Aramis laughed and swatted him playfully.

“Sire,” Porthos said hesitantly.

“Mmm?” Aramis asked.

“You won't... If Athos... I'll still...” Porthos frowned. He bit his lip slightly and Aramis smiled affectionately at the nervous gesture.

“I will never replace you, Porthos,” he murmured.

Porthos breathed a sigh of relief. He hated himself for doubting his place with Aramis but they still weren't sure of how Athos would impact them.

"Should we ever choose to introduce another person into our relationship, it would be entirely with your knowledge and opinion. They will never take your place, though. You are my other half. No matter who I meet, who I love, I could never find someone who completes me like you do. If we are ever apart, be it simply that you're in a different room, part of me is always looking for you," Aramis said softly.

Porthos felt his eyes welling up again, listening to Aramis' hypnotic voice. Aramis smiled at him and gently wiped Porthos' eyes.

“No more of that, my love. Come on... Let's find Athos. We don't want him thinking we're insatiable!” Aramis said, pulling himself to his feet and holding his hand out.

Porthos slowly stood, pulling heavily on Aramis' hand. He twisted experimentally and winced.

“Any better?”

“The throbbing's gone but it still hurts when I move, Sire,” Porthos grumbled.

“It will for a while, I think,” Aramis said, frowning. “I'll have a proper look when we get home but I think I might be able to take the stitches out. That might help it heal if you can begin to trust the skin.”

“Can I please, please, wear my jacket to go downstairs? It's bad enough that I've not been dressed among you two and that every time I've arrived somewhere I've needed assistance to walk up to our room. If we're going to have a drink with Athos, I don't really want to spend time in the common room in just my shirt,” Porthos grumbled.

Aramis laughed and nodded, handing him his doublet.

 

 

They found Athos in a dark corner of the common room, having already finished one bottle of wine. He looked up at their approach and smiled to see Porthos dressed but noted he wasn't wearing his belts.

“You look much better,” he said, nodding at Porthos.

“I feel it,” Porthos said brightly.

The pair sat down with Athos, seating themselves either side of the table. Athos felt his heart go out to them. Seeing them even this table width apart after the last week was just strange. He found he had a new understanding of how hard it must be for the two of them to deny and hide their relationship.

“You look deep in thought, friend,” Aramis said, signalling for more wine.

“I was thinking what a hard road the two of you face,” he answered truthfully.

Aramis smiled kindly at Athos and the three sat in comfortable silence while the maid brought them another bottle of wine and two more glasses.

“Love is worth it,” he said, when she'd left.

Athos snorted rudely.

“ **He's** worth it,” Porthos grunted quietly.

“I apologise, gentlemen. Your experience has not been my own,” he said formally, dipping his head.

Aramis poured them both a glass of wine and topped Athos' up at the same.

“What shall we drink to, my friends?” he asked.

“To Porthos and how pleased we are to see him on his feet again,” said Athos.

“To Porthos,” Aramis agreed.

“To Aramis' healing hands,” Porthos countered.

“To Athos' careful driving?” Aramis suggested.

“To Porthos' bravery?” asked Athos.

“To Athos' support,” said Porthos solemnly.

“To Porthos' survival,” said Athos firmly.

“To Athos' supervision,” Porthos replied, grinning.

“To my needlework?” suggested Aramis brightly.

“To your needlework,” agreed Porthos.

“To Aramis' needlework,” smirked Athos.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aramis finally lets go

The three Musketeers enjoyed the stress free evening together. They chatted, they laughed, they joked. It was as if that awful injury at Poitiers had never occurred.

It had been a long campaign at La Rochelle. They had expected to be away much longer but this injury had cut that short. Tréville and the Cardinal were both pretty certain that the city would not hold out longer and the three of them had been officially excused.

Athos was certain that should they be necessary, the Captain would recall them. When he communicated this thought to the other two, he saw Aramis' expression tighten. He waited a few seconds and saw him reluctantly nod.

“I hate that my duty to the regiment is more important than my duty to care for him,” Aramis said in a low voice.

Athos placed his hand over Aramis' on the table.

“I know, my friend,” Athos said quietly. “For some people, though, clinging to duty is all they have.”

Aramis looked at their friend and saw Athos staring morosely into his wine glass. He looked up at Porthos for a suggestion and was dismayed to notice Porthos was holding himself rigid, his fists clenched on the table.

“Perhaps we should retire for the night, gentlemen?” Aramis said, pointedly. Athos blinked in surprise and saw the direction of his gaze. Seeing Porthos' difficulty, he nodded.

“I'll arrange for a mattress to be brought up to us,” Athos said, quietly.

After seeing to the arrangements, he made his way up the stairs, catching up with brothers on the landing. He noticed Aramis' jaw was clenched, watching Porthos struggle.

Aramis rushed to Porthos' side, hearing Athos close the door behind them. Safely inside their room, Porthos allowed himself to lean heavily against Aramis.

“That was foolish,” Aramis said quietly. Porthos chuckled.

“I know. Felt good to be on my own two feet, though,” he replied.

Aramis shook his head at him and kissed his forehead. He sat him down on one of the chairs and helped him remove his doublet. Laying it upon their bags he returned to remove Porthos' boots and found a dopey smile on his face.

Athos had removed his belts and his doublet and was stood uncertainly. Aramis gestured to the other chair at the table and stepped away to remove his own weapons.

Athos watched Porthos curiously. He seemed to be slightly drowsy, which, as he considered it, wasn't surprising. He had clearly over exerted himself.

Aramis obviously agreed, sitting down on the floor between them. Athos made to rise, seeing Aramis folding his long legs beneath him but Aramis waved him to sit back down. Porthos reached out and Aramis took his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back.

When there was a knock at the door, Aramis rose gracefully and walked swiftly to answer it. Athos watched him go.

"Still fancy 'im then?" asked Porthos, grinning.

Athos shot him a reproving look and went to help Aramis carry in the simple straw mattress. With the inn staff's help, they situated it on the floor by the side of the single bed and pushed the table and chairs into the corner.

As Porthos stood to allow them to move the chair, he swayed slightly and sighed. Aramis heard the noise and glanced at him. Seeing how unsteady he was, he made an instant decision to grant Porthos the bed and share the mattress with Athos.

Once the door had closed behind their helpers, Aramis strode quickly to Porthos' side. Athos beat him to it and had wrapped his arm around Porthos' waist, holding him up.

"Bedtime handsome," Aramis said tenderly.

Porthos allowed Athos to push him towards the bed. He sat down carefully and Aramis pulled his shirt off. Porthos couldn't help the colour that rose to his cheeks when both of the other men raked their eyes up and down his chest. Aramis laughed loudly and ruffled Porthos' hair.

“Let me have a look,” he said, still grinning.

Porthos raised his arms so Aramis could unwind the bindings and have a look at the wound. Athos grimaced, seeing the full extent of the bruising. The skin seemed to have knitted itself closed but it was still very red.

Aramis seemed happy, though. He pressed in various locations and listened to Porthos' answering hisses and jumps.

“Bedtime,” Aramis repeated, patting Porthos' shoulder.

“I'd like to stay close to you, Master,” said Porthos, suddenly exhausted.

"Are you sure? You'll be more comfortable up here, lover," he said softly.

"Just want you, Sire," he said softly.

“Then we will take the floor and our senior officer shall take the bed,” Aramis said, drawing Porthos to his feet and helping him lower himself to the floor.

Athos watched them nervously and kicked his boots off. He sat cross-legged on the bed and watched Aramis move around the room.

Aramis stripped off to just his shirt and breeches. He shrugged and pulled his shirt off as well, laying down beside Porthos. His darker lover smiled as he settled down and leaned his head forward to kiss him.

They smiled and kissed tenderly. They each lingered and chuckled slightly as they finally broke apart. Aramis noticed Athos was still sat cross-legged and was watching them avidly.

“Athos?” he asked softly.

Porthos rolled back away from Aramis slightly to look up at Athos. Their friend was breathing shallowly.

“Don't stop,” Athos whispered, barely audible.

Aramis exchanged a glance with Porthos.

“Would you like to join us, brother?” Aramis asked, lowering his voice to the same light whisper.

Athos shook his head and simply straightened up to see them better.

Aramis pulled Porthos back to him and pressed his lips against Porthos' again. He felt the tension and uncertainty in Porthos' kiss.

He shuffled backwards and gestured for Porthos to follow. He rolled Porthos onto his back so he was in the centre of the mattress and they were both clearly visible to Athos.

Porthos realised Aramis was manoeuvring them into Athos' view and couldn't hide the ripple of nerves across his face. Aramis smiled and propped himself up on one arm above Porthos, trapping one of Porthos' arms. He stroked Porthos' scar with his fingertip, their silent signal for Porthos to keep his eyes closed.

Athos felt doubtful about his request to see them together when he saw Porthos hesitating but watched with fascination as Porthos instantly relaxed, closing his eyes at the gentle touch of Aramis' finger.

Aramis smiled adoringly at Porthos. He flicked his gaze up to Athos who was hunched over, watching intensely. Aramis flashed him a grin before dipping his head and brushing his lips over Porthos'.

Porthos sighed happily and lifted his head, following Aramis.

Athos marvelled at the way Porthos quickly dropped his head back to the pillow every time Aramis pulled away. He wasn't sure he'd ever have that level of self control. His thought was interrupted when a low rumble began to sound from Porthos' chest.

Aramis smiled, hearing Porthos beginning to grow frustrated. He lingered this time, sighing against Porthos' lips. Porthos' hands came up to meet Aramis. He rested his trapped hand on the small of Aramis' back and his free arm came up to cradle his face.

Aramis moaned softly, his own hand snaking beneath Porthos' raised arm to mirror his, resting against Porthos' cheek. He kissed Porthos more deeply, letting himself put more passion into the kiss than he had while Porthos was so injured.

Porthos felt the emotion in Aramis' kiss and rumbled in approval, his trapped hand moving in restless circles on Aramis' back. Aramis smiled against Porthos' mouth and shifted until he was straddling Porthos' hips.

“Remember earlier? Hips still, my love,” Aramis murmured, running his hands over Porthos' chest. Porthos nodded without opening his eyes, a relaxed smile on his face.

Aramis leaned forwards, his chest resting against Porthos', his hands settling in the dark curls, tugging it slightly to one side. Porthos rumbled again, his hands settling on Aramis' hips.

Aramis nuzzled into Porthos' neck, his beard tickling against Porthos' skin and making him groan. Aramis pulled Porthos' head slightly further to the side and began to kiss his way up and down the line of Porthos' jaw. He nibbled gently on Porthos' ear and was rewarded with another groan.

Porthos dug his fingers into Aramis' hips slightly, the light movements of Aramis' talented mouth making him harden involuntarily beneath his lover's pelvis.

He gasped as Aramis suddenly bit down on the sensitive skin of his throat. His hands flew up to Aramis' back and ran them up the bare skin. He pressed gently on the back of Aramis' shoulders, trying to close the small distance between them.

Aramis followed the pressure, pressing himself harder against Porthos' body and letting go of his hair. Porthos immediately lifted his head to kiss Aramis hungrily. Aramis moaned more deeply, running his hands up and down Porthos' sides, gently avoiding the wound site. Porthos groaned in appreciation, his own hands snaking up into Aramis', pressing his lover's mouth against his own.

Aramis gasped against Porthos' mouth and shifted restlessly on Porthos' hips, feeling his lover's arousal against his own. He began to nip against Porthos' bottom lip, gently catching it between his teeth. The rumbling in Porthos' chest got louder and he tightened his hands in Aramis' hair.

Aramis moaned softly, feeling Porthos alive and well beneath him, truly believing he was going to be fine. He ground his pelvis against Porthos and felt him groan deeply, the hands in his hair tightening again until it was just beginning to be painful.

Aramis dropped himself to his elbows, pressing his mouth harder against Porthos, using his body weight to press down on Porthos, and their kiss became messy.

Porthos felt himself lost in sensation with Aramis. They hadn't had a chance to be this close and this unbridled for weeks, even before he was injured. Aramis had begun to move rhythmically against his pelvis and it was driving Porthos mad.

Porthos shifted his hands so only one hand was wound into the dark hair, his hand covering the back of Aramis' head. His other hand was restlessly kneading the flesh of Aramis' buttocks, trying to get him even closer.

Aramis ground himself against Porthos, capturing Porthos' bottom lip and biting him again. As Porthos growled, Aramis covered his mouth, swallowing the noise. He writhed against Porthos as their mouths became more frantic.

Porthos growled again, his fingers digging into Aramis' backside hard enough to leave a bruise. Aramis gasped and suddenly lifted his head. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute, breathing hard. Aramis rested his forehead against Porthos' for a moment and realised Porthos was sweating.

“OK, my boy?” he panted, breathless.

“Oh yes, Sire,” Porthos groaned fervently. “Slightly worn out but not in pain,” he added honestly, the hand in Aramis' hair travelling down his bare skin to join the other on his buttocks.

Aramis laughed and kissed Porthos lightly, chuckling again when Porthos leaned his head up to follow. Aramis felt Porthos' forehead with one hand.

“I believe you have exerted yourself enough for one night, my darling,” Aramis said softly and kissed him again.

Porthos stretched up to meet him and what Aramis had intended as a light kiss ended up being a much firmer one.

Aramis laughed again and pulled away entirely. Porthos licked his lips and frowned.

“What is it?” he asked, tilting his head in concern.

“It's been a long time since my lips felt this bruised, Sire,” Porthos answered suggestively.

Aramis moaned and descended on Porthos' lips harshly. He ravished Porthos' mouth, his hands gripping Porthos' hair tightly. Porthos growled, the noise vibrating through the room, his hands clenching painfully on Aramis' buttocks.

Aramis writhed against Porthos, finally stretching his legs out behind him, laying himself against Porthos' body from top to bottom. Porthos took full advantage, moving his head to the side and nuzzling until, as he always did, he located the sensitive spot on Aramis' neck. Porthos gently clasped the delicate skin below Aramis' ear in his teeth and sucked gently. Aramis tightened his grip in Porthos' hair and Porthos bit him, eliciting a gasp, which quickly morphed into a distinct moan.

Aramis began to move rhythmically against Porthos, feeling his hardened bulge pressed hard against the matching one on his lover below him. Porthos' chest was vibrating, a deep rumble emanating constantly. He bit Aramis again and Aramis moaned in satisfaction. He pulled himself out of Porthos' grip and resumed kissing him, crushing his lips against Porthos', his tongue forcing itself into Porthos' mouth and claiming him.

Porthos groaned again and began to dig his fingers into Aramis' hips each time he moved against him. It was the only thing he could do, having been forbidden to arch against him.

Aramis found the first real sparks of blind lust filling him since Poitiers, not having let himself get this far while Porthos was hurt. He felt Porthos' insistent hands on his hips and began to move more smoothly against Porthos.

Porthos groaned beneath Aramis, understanding the more controlled movements meant Aramis was finally willing to seek his own satisfaction, having dedicated himself to Porthos' well-being since he was injured. He wanted so much to arch up against Aramis and provide this service.

He watched Aramis rutting against him and sucked in a breath as a hot wave of submission crashed over him, taking all his personal desires away with him. He dug his fingers into Aramis' hips again and heard him moan again.

Aramis began to pant with exertion, thrusting himself against Porthos. He gave up kissing Porthos and held himself up on his elbows, losing himself in Porthos' eyes.

“Sire please, may I touch you?” asked Porthos, his own breathing coming out in gasps.

Aramis moaned again and nodded shakily, lifting himself off Porthos to give Porthos' some room. While Porthos' hands snaked between them and skilfully undid the familiar laces, Aramis nuzzled along Porthos' neck. He nibbled and kissed as he went, feeling Porthos rumble happily.

He gasped against Porthos' ear as his hard cock was finally freed and met Porthos' waiting hand. His gasp turned into a long indulgent moan as Porthos' hand wrapped itself around him.

Porthos shivered, finally able to reciprocate. Aramis had done this for him a few days ago while he was injured but hadn't let himself relax enough for Porthos to return the favour.

Aramis shuddered with joy as Porthos' loving hand moulded itself to his long cock. He thrust into Porthos' hand impatiently and Porthos obligingly began to stroke him firmly. Aramis shuddered again.

Porthos groaned as Aramis dropped his head onto Porthos' shoulder. His breathy gasps and moans passing across Porthos' ear. He began to twist his hand and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from Aramis whose hips jerked into Porthos' hand.

Porthos turned his head and began to suckle gently at the sensitive place on Aramis' neck, running his tongue over his pulse point in time with his twisting hand.

He ran his other hand back round to Aramis' hip and dug his fingers in again. Aramis threw his head back, his eyes closed and moaned yet again. Porthos' breath caught in his throat. It'd been so long he almost forgot how beautiful Aramis was when he was lost like that.

Porthos tightened his grip, feeling Aramis' movements becoming erratic as his head dropped back onto Porthos' shoulder.

“Oh, Porthos,” he gasped. “Love you. Love you so much.”

“I love you too Sire,” whispered Porthos. He turned his head to Aramis' neck and bit down hard, unerringly locating the terribly sensitive point.

Aramis cried out and jerked in Porthos' hand. He shuddered in Porthos' grasp as his release rippled through him. Porthos continued to stroke him firmly until Aramis began to giggle as the tremors became uncomfortable.

Porthos finally stopped, kissing the bite mark gently and he felt Aramis flop against him, still giggling.

“OK, love?” asked Porthos, chuckling.

“Mhmmm,” purred Aramis.

“I love you, Master,” Porthos whispered.

Aramis didn't answer verbally, he simply kissed Porthos with such tenderness and gentility that Porthos felt the same warmth in his stomach as he did when Aramis said it out loud.

Aramis smiled blissfully and laid his head on Porthos' chest, closing his eyes. Porthos smiled peacefully and stroked Aramis' dark waves. As he sighed happily, his eyes found Athos, who was still watching them.

“You OK, Athos?” asked Porthos calmly, still stroking Aramis' hair. He brought his other hand up to stroke the hip he'd had such a tight grip on.

Aramis jumped in surprise and began to try and get up.

“Shh, Master. He's fine. We're all fine. Just float for a while, love,” Porthos murmured.

Aramis giggled again and dropped his head back down.

Athos frowned slightly.

“He's fine,” chuckled Porthos. “Just let him come back slowly. How are you?”

“I'm...” Athos trailed off and frowned thoughtfully. Porthos waited patiently, content to just hold Aramis for a while.

In truth, Athos had been utterly captivated. He was struggling to control his own breathing and he was painfully hard in his breeches watching the two gorgeous men lose themselves in each other. To be that close to someone again. He hadn't... Not even alone... Not since... He clenched his hand on himself again.

“I'm so touched you allowed me to share that,” he said finally.

Porthos smiled lazily at him.

“May I ask a favour, friend?” he asked quietly. Athos nodded. “Would you locate me a cloth, please?”

Athos got up stiffly, hiding his arousal from Porthos' view. He could not, however, hide the red flush on the back of his neck that had spread round to his collarbones.

Porthos took the cloth from Athos and smiled at him.

“You... you didn't...” Athos trailed off. He looked extremely nervous about asking personal questions.

“He controls that,” Porthos answered simply.

Porthos frowned slightly, listening to Aramis' breathing and shook his head ruefully. He pushed himself onto his side, gently rolling Aramis off him. He held himself up carefully and gently cleaned Aramis and his own stomach.

Aramis opened his eyes and gazed at Porthos.

“You woke me up,” he teased sleepily.

“You aren't a waif, Sire, and you were on my chest” Porthos said, grinning.

He gently reached down and tucked Aramis away. Aramis grinned at him as he redid his laces on both his garments.

Aramis glanced over Porthos' shoulder to see Athos still watching them. He felt slightly chagrined that he had forgotten all about Athos until Porthos had addressed him, though he suspected Porthos had too.

“I apologise we got so lost, my friend,” Aramis said drowsily.

“Don't,” breathed Athos fervently. “That was... beautiful,” he said softly, not meeting their eyes.

Aramis smiled and gestured at Porthos to shuffle back to his side of the mattress so Aramis could stretch out.

“Are you sure, brother?” asked Aramis quietly.

“I am,” Athos replied, more steadily. “That was just what I needed.”

The three fell into a comfortable silence as Aramis and Porthos arranged themselves. Aramis remained facing Porthos so he could still see Athos until he was certain he was OK.

Athos recognised what he was doing and smirked.

“Trying to keep yourself awake in case I have a breakdown?” he asked, shrewdly.

Porthos laughed, his eyes already closed. Aramis had been right to worry about him exerting himself as he was feeling remarkably exhausted.

Aramis laughed, too.

“I apologise, brother. It's in my nature to care for people I love. You may have noticed,” he said, patting the bandage on Porthos' bare waist lightly.

“I understand, Aramis. Sleep now. I will see to the candles,” Athos said quietly, rising from the bed.

Aramis turned over and snuggled back into Porthos' arms. He chuckled to himself in the growing darkness as he felt Porthos' hardness pressed into him. Porthos chuckled as well and gripped Aramis' bruised hip and laughed as he jumped.

“You are like misbehaving urchins,” Athos said affectionately, snuffing the last candle and settling into the bed above them. “All I can hear is giggling and mischievous laughing.”

This made the pair chuckle all the more and Athos finally joined in, the three of them laughing together as they settled for a night's sleep.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Athos woke slowly, laying on his stomach. He lifted his head and suddenly realised his arm was aching. He frowned sleepily and it quickly turned into a smile. His arm was draped over the side of the bed, his fingers brushing Porthos' bare shoulder.

He flexed his fingers lightly and Porthos turned his head to smile up at him. Porthos was also awake.

Athos smiled and left his hand where it was and thought quietly to himself. It was somewhere before dawn but there was enough grey light filtering through the window to see by.

He was surprised he'd slept so soundly. After witnessing the two of them last night, he'd expected to be visited in his dreams by.. her.. but he couldn't remember falling asleep or a single dream.

He brushed Porthos' shoulder again and when Porthos turned to smile at him again he nodded at Aramis.

“Still asleep?” he whispered.

Porthos nodded sleepily.

“Go back to sleep. We'll have a later start,” he murmured.

Porthos smiled and turned back to Aramis. He shrugged his shoulder meaningfully, raising it against Athos' hand, who squeezed it affectionately.

Athos listened to Porthos' breathing deepen, signalling he'd fallen asleep before moving. He turned over onto his back and let his other arm hang down and find Porthos' shoulder. His mind wandered back to the previous evening. It had been absolutely beautiful to watch and it had broken down a wall he hadn't even realised was there.

He had avoided joy since... her. After what he'd done to the woman he loved he had no right to look for personal satisfaction and yet... Those two.

The value of closeness was not to be underestimated. He could see that, now. While he may never love like that again, he understood he didn't need to cut himself off from humanity entirely. These two had gradually melted that awful pit of ice. Athos smiled to himself and drifted back to sleep, listening to them both breathing beside him.

Aramis woke next, stretching in Porthos' arms. He felt Porthos stir in behind him and nuzzle into the back of his hair.

“I love you Aramis,” Porthos whispered.

Aramis smiled and turned himself over. On his way he noticed Athos' fingers hanging above Porthos' shoulder.

“He been like that all night?” Aramis asked, a smile in his voice.

“He has. I'm pleased. We seem to have done him the world of good, Master. It's nice to see him relax,” Porthos said, pulling Aramis close.

“It is. I worry that he'll retreat again when we get back to Paris,” Aramis replied thoughtfully.

Athos stirred and propped himself up on one arm.

“Does this mean I'm going to get another aggressively cheerful series of visits?” he asked, smirking.

Aramis yawned and stretched in Porthos' arms.

“Apologies, dear Athos. We don't mean to talk about you,” Aramis said.

“You do but it's fine,” Athos replied quietly. “It comes from a good place.”

Porthos groaned and stretched, rolling onto his back, pulling Aramis with him.

Aramis smiled and stretched out on his stomach, draping himself across Porthos. The three of them gazed at each other quietly.

“I see questions in your eyes, Aramis,” Athos said after a few minutes.

Aramis frowned thoughtfully and glanced at Porthos.

“You, lover? Any questions?” he asked.

“No, Sire,” Porthos answered. He began running his hand in lazy circles on Aramis' back.

“May I have some time to think and cover it later?”

Athos smiled and nodded calmly.

“It appears to be time we were leaving anyway so let's talk on the road,” he said, pulling himself to his feet.

Aramis nuzzled thoughtfully into Porthos' chest, listening to Athos move around their room.

“I will be downstairs when you are ready to leave, gentlemen,” Athos said quietly as he left the room.

He paused in the hallway and forced himself to take deep breaths. He could understand Aramis having questions and he was encouraged by the fact Porthos didn't. Was that simply because Porthos deferred to Aramis though? Athos shook himself. It wasn't worth worrying himself. Aramis would ask what he needed to ask.

It was an uncomfortable morning. As the morning wore on, Athos grew less and less relaxed. Aramis had chosen to ride in the wagon and had been silent the entire time. Athos had so far managed to distract himself by watching Porthos.

Porthos was actually driving the horses and was full of beans. Aramis hadn't let him put his doublet back on so he was in just his shirt and travelling cloak.

Athos finally asked what was on his mind, in full knowledge that Aramis would be able to hear him.

“Do you know what's bothering him?”

“He overthinks everything, Athos. You know that. Now that he's accepted I'll be fine, he's resumed obsessing about what things mean between the three of us.”

“Resumed?”

“Perhaps obsessing's not the word. Thinking. Thinking about what it means for the three of us now,” Porthos said, shrugging.

“You don't seem concerned,”

“I'm not. He and I will be fine. That's all I care about,” Porthos said.

Athos lapsed into silence again, slightly stung.

“He doesn't mean that,” came Aramis' voice.

They both turned to look at him.

“That he and I are all he cares about,” explained Aramis.

Porthos gasped in horror.

“Oh Athos. No. No, no. God. I didn't mean that. No,” said Porthos in rush. He transferred the reins to one hand and rested his other on Athos' thigh.

“I understand,” Athos said, softly.

“No. I meant that as long as he and I are together, all is well. I can welcome anything, with him by my side,” Porthos said, squeezing his knee. “Anything that might or might not happen between the three of us is all good as long as nothing changes between he and I.”

Athos visibly relaxed and turned his head to look at Aramis.

“Are you ready to talk, Aramis?”

“Are you using us?” he blurted.

Porthos opened his mouth to admonish Aramis but the words died on his lips when Athos nodded.

“Not without regard to your feelings, but yes. I am. I do not love you, brothers. Not in that way. I have tried. I suspect neither of you feel that way,” Athos said politely, looking between the two.

Aramis frowned and looked at Porthos. Porthos just continued to smile and shrugged, turning back to the road.

Athos gently nudged Aramis back into the wagon and followed him. They sat side by side and Athos took Aramis' hand.

“Do you love me?” Athos asked seriously.

“Yes,” frowned Aramis.

“As more than a brother?” he insisted.

Aramis frowned.

“I... We must,” he replied quietly.

“You know as well as I do that love is not necessary for a physical relationship, Aramis,” Athos said quietly.

“You think me a whore?” Aramis asked, sharper than intended.

Athos leaned back, shocked by his friend's reaction. There was a loud sigh from Porthos who began moving the wagon off the road. There was a tense silence between the three as Porthos found a clearing by the river.

Once they'd stopped, Aramis shot out the cart and quickly round to the horses before Porthos had even carefully stepped down. He felt Porthos lay a hand on his shoulder, gently tapping his fingers against the pauldron.

Aramis sighed heavily.

“Don't be so quick to anger, Sire. You know this is difficult for him so let him explain,” he said urgently.

They sat down on the grass and watched the horses take a drink. Porthos looked back and forth between the two and frowned.

“Aramis. Do you genuinely hold a romantic love for every person you share yourself physically with?” he asked quietly.

“Not the way I love you but yes. A part of me,” he said sadly.

“Do you feel that for Athos?” Porthos asked. Clearly he was going to have to play referee for this.

“I don't know. You're the only man I've ever loved this way, Porthos. I don't know if I can recognise it in another man,” he replied, staring at his hands.

“Athos,” he said turning to face him. “How are you certain you do not love him in that way?”

“I tried,” he answered simply.

There was another tense silence as Porthos tried to work out his next step

“You are the only people I trust to carry me home after too much wine. I'm the only person you would have trusted to help care for Porthos. He's the only person you trust enough to fire a gun from behind you,” Athos said, taking them both by surprise.

“You are the only people I trust enough to seek comfort, affection and, should it ever come to pass, satisfaction. I recognise now that they are all needs that make me a better person,” he continued.

Another silence fell, not as tense this time. Porthos could see Athos had relaxed, having been able to explain. Aramis looked slightly less tense also.

“So... For you it's acceptable or even desirable to have that kind of... interaction without that form of romantic connection?” Aramis asked slowly.

Athos nodded.

“I cannot form romantic bonds. I love you fiercely as my closest friends and my brothers in arms. I would like to share this on occasion also. I do not intend or, indeed, wish for it to be a daily part of life,” he confirmed.

“You don't... don't want to make a relationship with us?” asked Porthos quietly.

Athos searched his face carefully for signs of hurt before answering.

“No, my friend. Just to add a few... recreational pastimes to our current one,” Athos replied.

Porthos grinned at him. He looked at Aramis carefully and saw him still frowning.

“Aramis. I do not wish to offend you. If you do not wish to add this element to our relationship then we do not have to,” Athos said softly.

“Oh, Athos! You think I'm revoking my offer? No! I told you Porthos and I would give you whatever we could. I'm just... I'm not used to being invited to enjoy someone in such an intimate way without... expectation,” Aramis said, finishing quietly.

“Porthos doesn't expect-” Athos began.

“I do,” Porthos interjected. “The relationship he and I have formed places a large burden on his shoulders.”

“One I carry happily,” Aramis chipped in. Porthos inclined his head to him.

“Even when he and I exchange roles, the love we have for one another makes it more...” Porthos trailed off.

“Monumental?” Athos asked quietly.

“Indeed,” Aramis answered, cutting across Porthos. “If, as you say, you would like it to be a simple recreational activity between friends, I see no reason my offer cannot stand without amendment.”

Athos breathed a sigh of relief. Porthos beamed at him.

“All of my offer,” said Aramis. He rose to his feet and walked to the horses.

Athos blinked and felt his neck grow warm. Porthos laughed loudly and rose, pulling the slightly stunned Athos up.

  
  


  
  


They stopped for lunch a few miles on in Étampes. It was a genial affair. Porthos had once again donned his doublet and this time his sword. Aramis hadn't let him wear his pistols but his sword and dagger, he agreed to.

Athos reviewed the maps over lunch and they all agreed to stop in Chastres as previously suggested. As it was such a short distance, they could afford to slow their pace. Aramis, therefore, rode their third horse instead of stopping to swap them around. He was riding a short distance in front of him and the bounce in his step was back.

Athos turned to Porthos, who was riding beside him on the wagon and smiled. Porthos was watching Aramis with such devotion it took Athos' breath away.

“He looks happier,” commented Athos.

“He does,” agreed Porthos, love evident in his voice.

“As do you,” Athos said.

Porthos tore his gaze away from the prancing Aramis to frown at Athos. There was something he couldn't identify in his friend's quiet voice.

“Athos?” he asked curiously.

“I find the pair of you fascinating,” Athos said honestly. “I am still coming to terms with being able to see you as you truly are.”

Porthos' frown deepened.

“What do you mean?”

“I've seen you look at him that way a hundred times and seen only friendly affection in it. Perhaps the same amusement I have for him when he's showing off,” Athos said, his gaze turning back to Aramis who had broken into a trot and was stretching away from them down the road.

“And now?” asked Porthos.

“And now I see the love you have for him in it. It was the same when I saw him get so angry when you were hurt sitting here,” Athos replied.

Porthos raised an eyebrow and gestured for Athos to continue.

“He's protective of us both and has absolute faith in us but he only ever gets angry over Savoy or you,” Athos explained.

Porthos simply grinned, watching Aramis begin cantering back towards them. Athos fell silent again and they both rolled their eyes as Aramis suddenly checked his horse, wheeled about and went trotting arrogantly ahead of them.

“How do you do that?” Athos asked suddenly.

Porthos looked round at him again, the pain in Athos' voice catching him off guard.

“What'd I do?” he asked, afraid he'd upset their taciturn friend.

“You just accept that he loves you,” Athos replied.

Porthos thought for a moment, his lips curving into an involuntary smile as Aramis returned to them yet again.

“There were times I didn't think I deserved him. I doubted him. I didn't believe in us. It was too good to be true, y'know?”

Athos nodded.

“What's the point in that? I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone,” Porthos continued as Aramis turned his horse to walk beside them, sensing their mood. “I love him as if he were air,” Porthos said, turning his head away from Athos and meeting Aramis' eyes. “Mi sol,” Porthos added softly.

“Mi vida,” Aramis replied quietly, tipping his hat. He kicked his horse into a canter again, settling into a trot a short distance ahead.

Porthos grinned again and turned back to Athos. A pained expression crossed his face and Porthos squeezed his knee.

“It takes more effort to pretend he doesn't love me than it does to feel the truth,” Porthos said quietly.

“People lie,” Athos said glumly and Porthos' grip tightened on his knee.

“I'm gonna ignore you saying Aramis is a liar,” he said, anger colouring his tone.

Athos felt himself pale under the warning and nodded, shaking himself from his thoughts. Porthos nodded and relaxed his hand.

“Look, Athos. I wasn't really there for it but you were. How did you find about us?” Porthos asked, turning his gaze back to Aramis.

“I watched him tend to you when you were injured,” Athos answered slowly.

“That was it?”

“Yes,” Athos answered, watching Porthos watch Aramis.

He let his mind wander back to that awful day with Porthos bleeding almost to death in front of him.

“It was evident in the way he tended to you,” Athos said after a long pause.

“He kissed me? Touched me with love? Held my hand?” Porthos asked.

“No,” Athos said, frowning. “I could just feel it.”

Porthos finally turned to look at him and nodded.

“So do I and don't doubt what I feel from him,” Porthos answered, shrugging.

“I apologise, Porthos,” Athos said quietly.

“We said we'd never pry but don't let whatever 'appened to you colour what you think of us,” Porthos said gruffly, nudging Athos with his shoulder.

Athos shook himself again.

“I apologise again,” he said. A faint smile crossed his features and Porthos nudged him once more.

“S'enough,” he said firmly.

  
  


  
  


They arrived in Chastres just as dark was falling. The small village had no rooms available so they ate a quick supper in the inn and then moved out to find a clearing nearby. Athos insisted they move well away from the road this close to Paris. Spies and bandits were more common just outside the city than they were out in the country.

Aramis still wouldn't let Porthos help them set up the tent. He'd recognised Porthos' strength beginning to fail from sitting up all day and was determined not to ruin the good progress they'd made.

Aramis put Porthos to bed quite soon after they were set up. Athos marvelled at his knowledge of Porthos when he heard Porthos' rumbling snore within minutes. Aramis rejoined him at the fire.

“How did you know he was so tired?” Athos asked. “He's seemed fine all day.”

“I know him,” Aramis answered, shrugging. He began to clean his pistol and looked sideways at Athos.

“You wish to know what we were discussing on the road?” Athos guessed.

“I would certainly like to. I won't insist, however,” Aramis replied.

“He doesn't doubt, even for a second, that you love him,” Athos said.

Aramis frowned.

“Why should he?”

“You don't either, do you?” Athos asked, his face full of wonder.

“Why should I?” Aramis asked again, his confusion growing.

Athos sighed deeply.

“He and I had bumps in the road. Mostly around **how** to love one another, not whether we did. You've watched us together. You noticed it in me before he or I ever made it known to you,” Aramis said, glancing up at Athos.

To Aramis' surprise, Athos laughed. He raised an eyebrow at him.

“He said the same thing,” Athos explained. Aramis smiled.

“Two halves of the whole,” Aramis said, shrugging slightly. “Get some sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours.”

Athos nodded and retired to the tent, deep in thought.

 


	15. Chapter 15

They arrived in Paris as the sun was setting. When they arrived in the garrison Serge helped them unload and gave them a quick supper. It appeared Tréville had sent word ahead that Porthos was injured and so they were expected but not until the following day at the earliest. Athos had made good time.

It was getting very late by the time they'd finished unloading and were ready to retire. Porthos' strength was beginning to fail so Athos helped Aramis get him home.

They helped the exhausted Porthos to the sofa. It was a long well padded affair with a high back and sides. Athos had helped them pay for it so he had somewhere comfortable to sit on the evenings they spent together.

Aramis looked around the room and sighed deeply. It was good to be home. He turned to look at Porthos who was slumped back against the sofa panting.

“Bit far?” Aramis asked, removing Pothos' sword belt and doublet.

“A bit, Sire,” Porthos replied, holding his side. “It's not so much the wound any more. I'm just exhausted.”

“You lost an awful lot of blood, my love. I think it will still be another week before you're close to fit. Let's have a look,” he said, dropping his hat on his armchair. He crouched beside the sofa and Porthos obediently lifted his shirt up.

“How's it looking, Doc?” Porthos asked.

“Still quite bruised but I see no sign of infection,” Aramis murmured thoughtfully. “I think the stitches can come out, actually.”

Athos brought them a bottle of wine from their kitchen and began to pour cups. Aramis and Athos both removed their weapons and Aramis shed his coat as well. They took seats on the sofa either side of Porthos and all three of them shared a deep sigh.

Porthos chuckled suddenly and received puzzled looks from either side.

“Boots on the rug,” he said, beginning to laugh.

“I'm sure Aramis has other things on his...” Athos trailed off, seeing the horrified look on Aramis' face as he looked down.

Porthos laughed properly, watching Athos and Aramis scramble to remove their boots without getting any more mud or straw on Aramis' rug.

Athos was sniggering to himself as well, feeling so much weight off his shoulders hearing Porthos' loud booming laugh for the first time since he hit the grass.

Aramis was scowling at them both as he sank to his knees and quickly removed Porthos' boots, who was too tired to lean forwards.

“Would you like to stay the night?” Aramis asked, looking up at Athos who had resumed his seat on the sofa.

“I assumed the two of you would prefer your first night at home alone. I was intending to depart once we'd shared a drink,” Athos replied.

“It's up to you, friend. You are welcome to spend the night in Porthos' room,” Aramis said, rising to sit beside Porthos again. Athos raised his eyebrows and Aramis laughed. "Your room," he conceded.

He lifted his arm and Porthos instantly nuzzled against his side. Aramis smiled and draped his arm around Porthos' shoulders and the pair sighed together.

Athos smiled affectionately at the two of them and returned to his drink. After several long minutes of comfortable silence, he realised the pair of them had fallen asleep together.

He silently replaced his boots and picked up his weapons, slipping out of their home without waking either of them.

  
  


 

Athos returned at eight the next morning and was surprised to find them both up and dressed. They were eating breakfast and he joined them happily.

“Aramis. You and I are to report for duty first thing tomorrow. We were correct. We're to join the Queen's guard,” Athos informed him, sitting down.

Aramis frowned.

“I don't think he-”

Athos held a hand up.

“I think he will be fine. He's sitting unaided, he can walk a few steps. You and I will spend this morning making sure the kitchen is well stocked but **you** are not injured, Aramis,” Athos said firmly.

Aramis shook himself.

“You're right, my friend. I apologise. It's just very hard to leave him after this.”

“I understand, Aramis. Porthos? How do you feel, in all honesty. Should you genuinely need assistance I can return and try and work out something else.,” Athos said quietly, turning to Porthos.

Porthos looked between the two.

“I think I'll be fine. I guess you'll only be at the palace if I'm not?”

“That or the yard, yes,” Athos confirmed.

“I should be fine then,” he replied.

Aramis grumbled.

“Then it's decided. Aramis, you and I shall go out now while Porthos rests. When we return, I will leave the two of you in peace. Then I will return and call for you at dawn, Aramis.”

Aramis grumbled again but accepted he was right. Walking round the table, he kissed Porthos on the forehead and looked at him carefully. Porthos smiled and nodded at him.

“Silent conversations haven't stopped then?” Athos asked, smirking.

 

 

Aramis was distracted all the following day. Athos kept having to mutter to him to stand still on guard. He rushed home without accompanying Athos to the yard to find Porthos napping on his side on the sofa.

He knelt beside Porthos and stroked his face gently. Porthos woke slowly, and beamed at Aramis.

“You're OK?”

“I am, Sire,” Porthos replied.

Aramis smiled and removed his weapons, piling them onto his chair. He shrugged his coat off and gently picked Porthos' head up. He sat down and gently placed Porthos' head in his lap. He demanded a run down of everything Porthos did, what hurt, when it hurt, when he ran out of energy, how much he drank. Athos joined them a few hours later for supper and several glasses of wine.

 

 

Life continued much in this way for another two weeks until Porthos was cleared for active duty.

Seeing Porthos back, Queen Anne smiled at the three of them.

“I thought there was something missing,” she said kindly, passing them. “I've always thought of the three of you as inseparable.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts and requests always welcome at kitacularao3 at gmaildotcom :D


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